


Breathe Deep

by Charming Facade (CrystalSilhouette)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, First Night Together, Frotting, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Loner Keith, M/M, New Species, Pining Lance (Voltron), Post Season Four, Violence, fluff-ish, klance, klangst, long chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalSilhouette/pseuds/Charming%20Facade
Summary: The Voltron Coalition is beginning to pick up speed. But with Zarkon back on the throne and Lotor up to nothing good, there's no time to be idle. Soon, there's a report of peculiar Galra Empire activity near a very distant planet, but there's no explanation as to why. Kolivan notes it, but deems the situation low-priority. Keith isn't so sure they can ignore any kind of Empire activity. He decides to take matters into his own hands and find the answers himself.What he finds is a new mystery all together. A mystery that nearly gets him killed.





	1. Sky

**Sky**

Keith sighed thoughtfully, the light of the star maps playing several different shades of red across the features of his face as he glowered. What was their game? There had to be some reason. He just had to find it.

_“Surveillance?” The tone in Kolivan’s question seemed curious, but not pressingly so._

_“Yes, Sir.” The agent nodded curtly, “We caught a transmission from the ship while we were scouting in the area. We figured they were passing through the quadrant, but when they didn’t leave after a while, we started to wonder. We’ve kept an eye on them since.”_

_Keith’s brows furrowed much more pensively than Kolivan’s seemed to. The Blade of Marmora recon team had intercepted a transmission and managed to pinpoint the location of the command ship just a few thousand leagues from the atmosphere of a planet called Vartex.  A command ship sitting cloaked in the middle of the Out Reaches? Why?_

_“And that was weeks ago? Has there been any other transmission?”_

_“No, Sir.” The subordinate looked to the smaller figure at Kolivan’s side, “It’s been complete radio silence since then. Not even scout movement.”_

_“Are they waiting for something?”_

_“It’s hard to say, Sir.” The agent shook his head._

_“We’ll keep it in mind. Thank you for your report.” Kolivan waved him off, but not before giving orders of reassignment for the agent’s team._

_Keith looked at the Galran with some slight surpise, “You’re reassigning them? But what about the Galran command ship?”_

_Kolivan turned back to the console and began inputting coordinates of the ship into the database of Galra deployments. “We have better things to use our resources for than babysit one ship that’s been doing nothing for nearly two months.”_

_“But what if it’s something we can’t ignore?” The fact that the leader of the Blade of Marmora seemed to just shrug off this information pricked at Keith a bit, “Kolivan, what if they know something?”_

_“Keith, they know a lot of things.” He never turned to look at his faction counterpart, “But we need to figure out which things they know that are going to affect us and the rest of the universe in a more urgent nature._ This _isn’t one of those things.”_

 _Not yet_ … _Keith thought dejectedly._

He felt very different about the situation.

Some home worlds Keith had come across in his travels with The Blade of Marmora and the Voltron Team had been a little sparse on records. But with a bit of effort from within the group, Marmora always managed to elucidate a bit more on the unknowns before they would be stepping foot on any surface, should it ever be deemed necessary; which had occurred from time to time.

Vartex, however, seemed almost non-existent. They would have deemed it a completely unknown world, but what forms of records they could find did state that it _had_ once been known to _someone_ in the past. But what would the Galra Empire want with it _now_? Maybe they wanted to use the planet as a foothold outside of possible Resistance detection? But, if that were the case, why hadn’t they? The Galra Empire wasn’t known for it’s patience when it came to taking a planet. Even Lotor’s approach was ‘shoot first, friends later’. What was the difference with Vartex? And why couldn’t anymore information be found on the planet? Was it even still inhabited by anyone? That should make setting up a base of operations a complete snap. And yet…

Keith rubbed his eyes with a hand, as though it would help smooth some of the kinks in his thought process. He sighed deeply again and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at that blinking red dot in the middle of a grid square, next to a cerulean orb. His eyes narrowed as his lips pursed.  Perhaps, if he concentrated enough he could bore into the walls of the ship that pixel represented, straight into the mind of the captain and see every answer he sought. _Are you waiting for someone? Are you dead in the water? Are you deserting? You can’t be. Not while still communicating with the Empire – even as rarely as you are._

His arms dropped to his sides, “Whatever your secrets are, Vartex, I’m not going to find them standing _here_.”

Kolivan was a good leader. He was a great leader. He knew what things had to be done in order for the Blade of Marmora to be successful; the sacrifices that had to be given. Keith trusted Kolivan’s leadership almost as much as he trusted Shiro’s. But this time he had to disagree. Perhaps it was simply that the Blade of Marmora was stretched so much farther than it had been in the last few centuries. There was just too much to consider now with taking on so many more duties for the good of emancipation from the Empire. This time, Keith didn’t believe Kolivan’s decision was right. He had no proof, or even valid reasoning to trump the Marmora leader’s orders on the matter. But he couldn’t ignore what he felt inside. Zarkon had to be biding his time. He had to want _something_ on that rock. Keith walked out of the command room with every intention of finding it before the emperor could get his hands on it.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

Once Keith reached Vartex, he was greeted by a serene aquamarine jewel against the glittered abyss of space. If one were to forget the context of his visit, one could almost truly admire the beauty of it. It was much greener than he remembered Earth’s tones to be. It was just as vibrant too, if not more so. His ship’s cloaking was already active once it broke out of its jump and he circled about to reach the opposite side of the world from the location of the Galran ship. He kept a wary eye in that direction as he did so, being attentive to any possible activity. So far, stillness.

Even though he would be able to run scans on the planet from his position, he didn’t want to risk the possibility of a ship so close picking up any of his activity. He wasn’t sure what it was he would be searching for, but he would have to do it from within the planet’s atmosphere. He could feel the warmth of his breath against the fabric over his face. _No point turning back now_. This time he was on his own completely. No Lion, no team, no Voltron, and no Blade of Marmora. He was sure Kolivan would argue against him checking out Vartex and whatever - or whom ever - was there on that planet, Keith didn’t want to become a bargaining chip against Voltron for. Even if Zarkon might not have taken the place for his own, who was to say that they weren’t in the middle of some kind of stand-off. Should something go awry, he could potentially be the grain to tip the scale in their favor; and with Team Voltron in their pocket to pass on, eventually Zarkon’s favor. He would have to be particularly cautious on this personal reconnoiter. But once he found what he was looking for, Zarkon and the Galra Empire would have to be at a serious disadvantage! _This_ has _to be something…_

Keith pointed the ship into a nosedive and blasted toward a gathering of clouds. He didn’t want it to be too obvious an entrance to inhabitants. Once he was into clouds, he pulled back on the throttle and began cruising speed, still at a relatively distant altitude. His eyes widened at the landscape before him.

The surface was covered in foliage. Gorgeous hues of green, shades of brown, and freckles of floral colors that seemed to spread beyond the horizon. It was beautiful. His trajectory had no determined endpoint. Keith merely headed forward as he scanned the land below him. The trees were enormous, every once and a while, breaking into open grasslands and clearings. They seemed similar to the ones on Earth, but the alienness of them was just enough to remind him that it wasn’t home. Even the color of the blossoms in the fields were off somehow. The pilot shook thoughts of home from his mind and refocused on his task at hand. He touched the console panel to his right and initiated a surface scan as well frequency detection. In no time at all, the radar chirped a hit. Keith’s brow piqued at the quick response.

“It’s Galra tech…” the screen showed a familiar blip on the panel. This proved it. The Galra Empire was definitely up to something on this planet. He pointed the nose of his ship to head in the direction of the source and kicked it into a higher gear. Now, he had a heading. No longer than a varga later, Keith figured he was near enough to being underneath the command ship still sitting in the stars. He double-checked the cloaking switch to make sure it was still up. Just as the landscape broke into cragged edges against a black sea, he saw it in the distance. There was what clearly looked to be a city that curled around the bottom of a cliff. On that cliff looked to be a space terminal.

He slowed his approach and cut his altitude by half. _Deserted._ The visage of a giant lively space hub, upon closer inspection, turned out to be cragged ruins of pale stone, sinking beneath the tide of foliage that crept over the outer city walls. It had been empty for a _long_ time. The landscape worked thoroughly over the centuries to begin to reclaim the city, reaching slender, viney fingers completely across the city’s expanse and seemed to claw up at the side of the cliff that overlooked it. The creeping foliage covered every bit of the settlement, though, not enough to hide the remnant grandeur of what it once had been. Peeking out behind leaves and blossoms were the deep, intricate lines of organic designs with rigid intricacies; strong shapes with naturally flowing accents. It was not wholly lost to the planet just yet. The port that sat atop the pedestal seemed very much active compared to the derelict skeleton below. Dark eyes narrowed before scouting out a landing spot perfectly out of sight from anyone perched on the cliff.

Keith exited his ship, checking the security of the daggers on his hips. His outfit was near similar light armor to what he usually wore with the Blade, but it adorned no purple, no accents, and no Mamoran blade. He would miss it, but this was not the time to tie them into what trouble he was getting into. He adjusted the mask on the bridge of his nose and pulled up the hood over his head. He was just going to take a quick look around. This would be easy.

Keith cut around the city entirely and made for the cliff wall. A few dobashes later, he was making his way toward the side. There were several pathways up, making the climb rather quick and painless. When this place was up and running, it was clear that the roads between the terminal and city below were plentiful and well used. Keith made light work of the trek and soon crested the edge. He quietly and slowly peeked around the stair wall, unaware that he held his breath as he anticipated someone possibly standing just around the corner guarding the open entryway. He blinked, surprised. With laxing shoulders he stepped around the corner. Nothing. There was no one there. Empty. Just like the city and not a guard detail to be found.

“What?” Keith took a single step into the open, “But… the scanner.”

He surveyed the expanse of the plateau. It was quiet. The only sound was the swirling winds around him whistling passed, tousling his hair across his face and playing at the edges of his hooded cloak. The place looked as though it hadn’t seen a foreign space vessel in… ever. Or even a local one. His dark eyes, glossed over the edge of the landing zone and toward the vast carpet of sea that followed to the right of him, then toward the sky as he turned the mystery of why that ship was there, hovering over what turned out to be… nothing.

He looked toward the large building the opposite direction. _No. There’s something here. That was definitely Galran and it was_ definitely _functioning._ The former paladin unsheathed his daggers before making for the hold, swift and silent. He couldn’t assume he was alone just yet. Once he got to the first door he found he looked it over. It was not as alien a technology as he was expecting – or perhaps he was expecting it to be Galra. He placed his hand on the block next to the entry way. It strobed to life and the door opened. _Bingo._ Keith pulled the hood further down and over his face, making sure to duck low as he entered. The dark hall was empty and as eerily quiet as the dock, but the glossy sheen on the floor and walls proved it to rather well maintained. There wasn’t a speck of dust in the place; never mind the fact that it was lit well enough. There was a pair of thin strips of green light, parallel to each other, that ran the length of every wall. It was enough to light one’s way, but not bright enough to cut down Keith’s advantage in stealth.

Everything looked the same. There was no map, no computer panel, no… well, anything. Just halls. Empty rooms. Locked doors to more empty rooms. He tired of working through the doors once the fourth turned out to be more of the same vacant hole as every other open door in the wing. He spent what felt like hours wandering around, not at all sure if he was going to find what he was looking for – what ever the hell it was. At least this particular floor had a couple windows in a room or two. He glanced out of one that looked over the side that he had come up, showcasing a rather breath-taking view of the dock watching over the clash of sea, forest, and city below. If he never made it back to Earth, this wouldn’t be a bad substitute. It was a bit of a bittersweet thought in his mind. Earth. Did he even miss it at all? Did he ever really belong there? Was it ever really _home?_ He rubbed his forehead with the back of a daggered hand and sighed. “Maybe Kolivan was right. Maybe there really _isn’t_ anything here.” His gaze fell just a bit and he saw it. A control room. There. That’s where he would find what he needed. If this place had any sort of mainframe system it would be in there. And where there was a mainframe, there were records and intel!

Two floors down and a little walk to the left. He was nearly there when he halted half way between corridors. Movement. And voices. Immediately Keith ducked low and pressed against the wall. He moved slowly, careful not to make any loud footfalls as he stepped, daggers gripped expertly in either palm, ready to strike when the need arose. Two distinct voices. He couldn’t make out what it was they were saying at first, but they sounded as though they were heading out of the room. He seeped a deep breath into his lungs and held it, waiting for the perfect time for his ambush. Just as he hear them right around the corner, he pounced and his right hand hooked his blade in an expertly planned horizontal arch striking squarely at – nothing. They were gone. The room was empty.

“What?!” Keith immediately took up a defensive stance and shifted into the control room, making sure to keep his back up against the wall. He made a quick glance back out the door into the hall. Empty. _What the hell?! I_ heard _voices!_ His dark brows knitted together as even darker eyes darted across the room, catching every corner, checking every crevasse he could find. His heart was pounding so loud in his ears he wasn’t sure if he would even be able to _hear_ any actual movement in the room if there _was_ any. He had made two full circles around the room and checked beneath every console and found no evidence of where his phantom voices came from. He was the only one in the room. Quietly he shook his head in disbelief, but reached into a slender pocket to pull out a chip drive. He had best make use of his alone time before anyone were to return. Or show up the first time, perhaps. Or, maybe not at all. He grumble to himself in confusion about the entire ordeal as he moved to the main console.

It didn’t look _exactly_ like the Galra tech he was familiar with, but there was no question. It took but a tick to find the port for his drive and how to boot up the system. The Galra lettering flickered up onto the holoscreen before him and he smirked. _You’re secrets are mine_ now, _Zarkon._ This could possibly be the key to a way to stop the Galra Empire completely. All he had to do was transfer the intel and take it back to Marmora and it was nearly done. Just a few more seconds and he was halfway home. As he waited, he paged through a bit of info, hoping to at least glean a little bit about what he caught onto, though he never dropped his guard one iota to any lurking company. The mainframe blipped ‘task completed’ but he continued to sift. So far, he found nothing particularly note worthy. Some intel of other space ports on Vartex, but nothing that indicated a weapon, or a power source, or even some kind of _lore_ or _history_ on this place.

“Why isn’t there anything here? What are you hiding, Vartex?” _-click-_ Ledgers. _-click-_ Passenger counts. _-click click-_ Work shifts?! _-CLICK-_ Blackness.

Keith never saw it coming. He never heard it coming. Luckily for him, he barely felt it before it knocked him out cold.

 

* * *

 

 

“I didn’t think that anyone even bothered to go this far anymore.”

Boy, was Keith feeling it now. His head lolled from side to side, pivoting on his chin as it rested against his chest. _Fuck_ , did it hurt. The throbbing at the base of his skull was painful enough to make him want to puke. He groaned lowly and instantly regretted it. The small vibration in his head from that alone was enough to turn his stomach further.

“Well, scavengers and bounty hunters tend to have less sense than most. Usually hard to predict what they have on their minds, so this isn’t entirely surprising.”

Keith shifted his right arm to reach for his temple. Maybe a gentle massage could coax a bit of the nausea away. It didn’t move. He tried again. His brows furrowed as his eyes slit open just slightly. He tried the left with no different result. His eyes opened further as he began to regain his wits about him. He shifted his wrists. They were heavy. Shackles. He was restrained; both wrists clasped behind him. There was a similar sensation on both his ankles. He couldn’t move his arms because they were in the grasp of his captors. They were dragging him out of the building. He looked up from the ground his toes dragged across and saw the edge of the cliff getting closer and closer. They were going to toss him off the edge!

“What?! What the hell?” Keith exclaimed as he began to struggle against their hold.

“Oh.” The first voice sounded female. “He’s awake.”

Keith felt the grasp on his right arm tighten as he attempted to thrash free.

“Well, that’s a shame.” The second was much deeper and had a heavy, gruff rasp to it. “I’d hate to be him when he hits the bottom of the sea. Would have been easier on you if you didn’t wake up, scavver.”

“Y-you can’t do this!” Keith exclaimed, managing his legs in front of them and trying desperately to stop their progress. His only success was kicking dirt and rocks with his heels. They were incredibly strong. They barely flinched at his wrenching.

“Sure we can. We did. We always have. And we always will.” If Keith didn’t know any better, he almost would have described her tone as sing-song. “Never thought that _I_ would actually ever have to, I must say.”

“And you kaegen wonder why we still patrol…” It never even crossed his mind to look up at his captors and get even a glimpse of a face to match the voices. Facing your death over jagged cliff edge tended to make one forget a few details. “Alright. Off with you, then!”

“No! No, wait!” Keith was far too panicked to even think about how much his head ached any longer. His heart raced. His mind raced. His breath was short and quick. He felt a pull back and caught a motion in the corner of his eye. Something dark shifted forward and then so did he.

If he were conscious to such a detail, he would have been able to at least appreciate the fact that the two managed to throw him several wide feet forward, giving him enough birth from the side of the cliff wall. He was lucky enough to have a straight shot down – if you could call it ‘lucky’ – all two hundred feet of it. Once he hit the edge of his horizontal arch, he felt a hard pull on his ankles and looked down. The chain between his ankles angled down to a second fixed to a solid weight. If this fall wouldn’t kill him, the drowning would.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!_

 

* * *

* * *

 

 “Oooh my gosh…” Hunk’s groaning was broadcast across all five lions, each paladin hearing him crisp and clear through the comms in their helmets, “Oooh, I think I’m going to explode.”

“Have a bit too much to eat, Hunk?” Pidge’s smirk could practically be _heard_ as the group of paladins drifted gracefully toward the Castle of Lions.

“I- I didn’t think it was possible. Like, _physically_ possible for me. But it there was just so. Much. Good. Food.”

“Yes, the Whallan people are quite renowned for their incomparable cuisine.” Allura couldn’t hold back a gentle chuckle in her voice as she recalled Hunk’s pure joy as they partook of the feast in honor of Voltron.

“That purply, polka-dotted, chewy, bar-ish kind of stuff was pretty good.” Pidge really couldn’t really find any better way to describe the dish she enjoyed, “It tasted a lot like peanut butter.”

“Toh-grak.” Hunk answered. “I’m thinking I might be able to deconstruct what’s in it and maybe replicate the recipe back at the castle.”

“I’m truly glad that you all enjoyed this visit to Planet Whallan, paladins. This was another wonderful success and another step forward for the Voltron Coalition.” Allura acclaimed regally, “We are well on our way to truly uniting the universe against Zarkon and his empire.”

“Well, that’s all well and good,” Lance echoed in everyone’s ear this time, “But I think we could have done so much more. We need to bring way more pizzazz into our demonstrations. Like back when we were doing all those shows! Now THAT was some serious entertainment.”

“We’re not supposed to _entertain_ the masses, Lance.” Shiro shook his head with a smile. “We’re supposed to _protect_ them.”

“No, I got it. I got it.” McClain nodded, his arms folded over his chest in sagely consideration toward his team leaders point, “And we do! But that doesn’t mean we can really inspire people and _explode_ their confidence in us with some A-Class maneuvers!”

“Sorry… _explode_ confidence?”

“Come on, Pidge, _visualize!!_ ” This time Lance’s hands danced across his eyes to emphasize the word, even though no one could see him do so, “The loud cheering, the screaming fans – who doesn’t love loving those that love you enough to protect you, am I right? More celebrations and food, Hunk! All the fancy diplomatic parties for the princess and, best of all, the universe can’t stop talking about us! Everyone will know that Voltron is there to protect one and all and just breed more love for everyone all around!”

“I think the high decibels of screaming have rattled your head just a little bit, Lance.” Pidge snickered.

“Well, you guys go on and do what you want. Red and I are going to hang out here and practice some new choreography.” Lance waved them on as they reached the giant ship sitting placidly amongst the stars, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you all have a front row seat to our amazing one lion show once we’ve got it all nailed down.”

“Don’t get yourself into too much trouble out here, Lance.” Shiro signed off, and once the other lions had docked into their towers Black Lion followed suit with his pilot.

Indeed, the demonstration was successful. Prince Lotor, being declared an enemy of the Empire, wasn’t around to push back on their efforts to bolster confidence in Voltron and the Coaltion was doing well in growing its numbers as a result. Even though Lance and the others didn’t mind the visits and spoils of their heraldic visits, there was always that back-seated wonder about what the next step would be – for either side. Anything was open at this point, now that Zarkon reclaimed his Empire and the fact, alone, that he had exiled his own son and heir really meant that everyone had to be on their toes. Zarkon was capable of _anything_ , it seemed.

“Alright, Red!” Lance grinned as he slipped his fingers around the lion’s controls once again, a confident smirk on his face, “What do you say we try working on spicing things up a bit, huh?”

Lance pulled back on the throttle and slammed it forward, ready to kick his performance into high gear. Now that he and Red had some time together to acclimate to each other, he was really starting to get the hang of how to handle the crazy speed the lion had. Keith was nearly above and far beyond ‘natural’ at handling this lion. He had the penchant for high fire flying since they first met. But that didn’t mean that Lance was deterred from stepping up to the plate himself. If Keith could do it, so could he. Eventually.

This time, he would try and see just how much he could push the lion – and himself – to the limit. Or, at least, he would if Red responded at all. Nothing. Not so much as a flinch. He tried the throttle again. The lion didn’t move.

“Red?” he glanced around on his screens looking for a possible sign something amiss, “You ok, pal?”

Suddenly everything went dark. Lights shut down, power went out, and Red’s eyes went black. “Whoa! Red! What’s wrong?” Immediately, everything powered back on and Lance could feel the uneasiness of his lion. “Talk to me, bud. Tell me what’s going on.” He was starting to get antsy. Everything was just fine a second ago. What changed? He could feel a low rumble in Red’s chest and suddenly the lion turned away from the castle. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Red, but if that’s where you want to go, then that’s where we’ll go.” Lance made that same fluid motion for a third time, but now, thrusters burst into life and he and Red Lion were dodging stardust and meteor tails as they shot across the galaxy.

  

* * *

 

 

Red Lion made quick work of the distance between the orbit of the Castle of Lions and his apparent destination. Lance was curious about the planet shone on the screen before him. He thought that Whallan had been pretty far out of ‘universal civilization’, but this planet was literally on the edge. What did Red want here? Once the lion had broken into the atmosphere and the cloud line, Lance knew what _he_ wanted there. A vacation. He pulled his helmet off to get a better look. Man, was this planet beautiful! It looked like something out of a painting or one of those really corny romantic chick flicks that always had that stupid meadow or picnic scene. Lance could see a coast line coming into view as Red Lion beelined to their destination. This was probably going to be a place Lance would keep in his back pocket; way off the map, quiet, beautiful. It was kind of a shame that he would miss his adulations far too much to actually put such a plan into action. A few ticks and a couple hundred miles more, Red finally settled into a nice collection of trees rather pointed about staying out of sight.

“Ok then…” Lance mused with a scratch of his head. “I guess I’ll have a look around?”

Nothing really seemed at all threatening from his current views in the lion, but he made sure to have his bayard drawn and ready to fire should anything decide things were a little too quiet. Lance stepped out of the lion and immediately shields and cloaking kicked into full. How was he supposed to know what to look for? He shrugged to himself and waded through the brush. Wouldn’t find out just standing there. A several yards up ahead, Lance could see a break in the trees and headed that direction. Once he broke the line of foliage, McClain was greeted by the entrance to a walled city. The arch and wall faces were covered in numerous decorative carvings, most of which were worn and faded. The expanse in its entirety was completely swallowed by over growth.

“Whoa…” Lance stepped up to the entrance archway and brushed aside some foliage. He could see the faded hints of geometric frescos against the sun-bleached stone. This place must have been a truly amazing thing to behold in its day.

 

“No! No, wait!”

 

Lance picked up the faint echoes of a voice in the distance, carried by echoing stones from the cliffside. He looked toward the plateau in the distance and caught movement. “What the heck is that?” He lifted his rifle and engaged his sight. He zoomed in. Though a moving target was hard to find in a zoom initially, he managed to finally get it framed in and follow it long enough to see just what – or whom – it was. He knew that scowl. Lance knew that scowl anywhere. Keith was falling hundreds of feet from the cliff to the water below and, from the look of him, he wasn’t going to make it back to the surface any time soon.

McClain immediately stowed his rifle and re-attached his bayard before breaking out into a dead sprint toward the cliff waters. From that height, if Keith survived, his time was severely limited.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * [Tumblr](https://crystalsilhouette.tumblr.com/)
>   * [FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/73584/)
> 



	2. Water

**Water**  

It was quiet. Empty. Not quite dark. The rays of the distant stars that acted as the system’s sun danced around him as the water bent and played with the light. It felt desolate. There was no sea life he could see. No color. Just hues. Differing shades of gray and blue that shifted with the play of light. The rocks were jagged and just as angry as the cliffside. But they seemed widely spread beneath the waves. Most of the floor was sand and bits of stone and pebble the waves clawed away from the surface. One could even call it serene; perhaps even calming.

‘Calm’ was the last thing on Keith’s mind. He was lucky enough that the weight on his chain broke the surface tension of the water before the plunge, essentially saving his life from a rather horrible and quick end.  As it splashed in below, the sea welcomed him with nearly gentle hands rising and pulling him under into a slowed decent toward the empty floors below. Keith had managed to time it fairly well and took the deepest breath he could manage just before he was overcome by water. He struggled. He had hoped that once he was below sea level, he would be able to work with some of the buoyancy it would provide to counter the mass of the weight below him. He was immensely disappointed. The thing was still too heavy. He kicked his legs as hard as he could, but neither lifted enough to make any sort of difference in his situation. The weight was still pulling him down at a such a speed he wasn’t even able to bend down and attempt reaching for either of the shackles at his ankles.

 _Ah, fuck!_ His head started to ache, and it was building quickly. He rolled his jaw several times and swallowed until, finally, the pressure in his skull equalized. The distance between him and the surface was mounting, and Keith was really starting to worry. He had to already have passed twenty feet, judging by the amount of squeeze on his sinuses before he equalized. And he still hadn’t hit bottom yet. That was going to cut the amount of air he had in his lungs by quite a bit. He was in trouble. He was in big trouble. If only he had his arms. But the amount of chain between the shackles on his wrists were hardly as generous as those at his feet. Four or five links at most. That didn’t even give him enough to set his hands shoulder-width apart. He started looking around him, scoping his shifting surroundings for _anything_ that he might be able to use. His jaw was starting to tire a bit from the constant equalizing. Keith really hoped he would stop soon. More for the fact that it would be less work to reach air again, but also for the possibility he would find more leverage once he hit sandy ground.

Much to his relief, it wasn’t much longer when he finally came to a stop. He could hear the muffled ‘thump’ of his chained weight into the sand beneath him. _Finally!_ Keith Managed to curl into himself enough and reach the chain between his legs. It was awkward, having to fondle around with his hands stuck behind him, and the air in his lungs constantly pulled him back upward and away from his goal, but he managed. It was a difficult workout, but he had little choice. He worked his wrists under his feet and was able to bring his arms forward and pull himself closer to the ground. If he could just lift the weight enough to get the chains around his wrist to the other side, things would be a million times easier. For one, he wouldn’t be so tangled between his legs and arms just moving.

He reached the weight. _Shit, is it heavy._ It was an odd shape for a chain weight. Pyramid in structure and his chain was welded to the top of it. _Ok._ He planted his feet as firmly as he could and yanked with everything. It lifted, bubbles of air slipping through his teeth. It wasn’t enough. The chains were too thick to slide under as far as he could get it. _Jesus Christ!_ And how the hell was he supposed to slide the chain under anyway when he was too busy lifting the fucking thing? He couldn’t hold it anymore. It dropped back to the ground, a fine dust of sand and dirt clouding around it and his legs. He was tired, and the chain slipped from his grip. He scrambled to grab it again, but it was too late, and the chain forced his arms behind his back again as he floated back up. He could feel himself running out of oxygen. And energy. And hope…

Keith was out of options and ideas. Keith was out of time.

His shoulders slumped as he floated there in the alien abyss. He was always good at getting himself into messes like this. Usually, when he did, he always had someone to help bail him out. Kolivan and the rest of the Blade of Marmora had really been a strong support system for Keith. His ideals and theirs meshed so well, he was glad to have found them and really start to make a difference the way he felt he needed to. Shiro, had been there for the longest time. Man, did he miss him. No one understood him, like Shiro did. If it wasn’t for him, who knows where he would have ended up before now. And the other paladins. They were the best team he had ever been a part of. To hell with that, they were the closest thing to what he ever had to a family.

Coran and Allura were probably the best things to happen to him. Without Voltron, Keith felt that he would never have found true purpose in his life. He was driven now. He had something he could fight for, and that was a true gift. Hunk would always be there whenever he needed a little pick-me-up and there was never a question asked. Even if, most of the time, the answer was some kind of food, he always knew how to make Keith feel better. He was almost like that warm, fuzzy feeling personified. Pidge always managed to bring the best out of everyone. Her intellect was never domineering or lorded over anyone, it almost, rubbed off at times. Plus, she was the best to have alone time with when you just felt like being with company you didn’t have to interact with. Keith felt that was one of the best bonds they had. Lance. Keith almost smirked at the thought of Lance. What didn’t Keith think of him? Obnoxious. Pompous. Confident. Skilled. Dependable. Loyal. There were far too many facets of Lance to ignore. But the link that they shared in their rivalry only helped them grow together, Keith realized. Both were young and rather immature at the start of this all back on Earth, but they had certainly grown into their own with their shared experiences, with Keith both on the team, and off. If only he had known how to show how much he had appreciated them all. If only he had realized before now just how much he _did_ appreciate them. He missed them.

His chest started to ache, though, he couldn’t tell if that was because he was building the regret inside himself, or he was really starting to run out of air. At least it was peaceful. The gentle sway of the water was practically relaxing – for one about to suffocate. His eyes closed. He was resigned. Keith was a little surprised at the fact that _this_ was how he was going to go. Drowning. Slightly anti-climactic for such a spit-fire. The only thing he really had to complain about was the irritating flash of light that kept sweeping by. _Wait, what?_ Keith’s eyes opened and he could see a cone of light swaying back and forth. It swept by slowly. Like a search light. Like it was searching – it stopped as soon as it found Keith and he winced. It was blinding and getting brighter. Whatever it was, it was coming straight for him. Keith squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to turn away from the beam with little success. Suddenly the light ebbed, and he felt a grab at his shoulders. _Lance?!_ His eyes went wide when he finally opened them.

It was a rather dismal scene to find Keith in the middle of black emptiness, floating above his heavy chain prison. He was so still, Lance was worried he was too late and his heart raced almost as fast as the pack on his back could push him. He was relieved when Keith opened his eyes. He needed to get them both out of the water soon. He could tell he would need air soon, and if he did, Keith sure as hell needed to surface. Holding onto Keith, he looked him over. He seemed mostly uninjured. He was aware too, noting how Keith watched him as he worked. He dragged a hand across his chest and around his back, following the curve of his body down over his backside and legs. Keith had made a face at the touches that displayed confused violation, but Lance missed it entirely. The man was weaponless. That was unfortunate, though, not entirely unexpected. He had nothing to help pry the chains from his companion. His rifle wouldn’t work underwater, so they were currently in a bit of a conundrum. He had to think quick. He looked at Keith and made a slicing motion with his hand, asking if he had one stashed anywhere on him. Keith’s shoulders sank, and he shook his head. The only thing he had brought were his daggers.

Small bubbles seeped through the mask on Keith’s face and his eyes shut tightly. He was out of oxygen. Lance looked up toward the surface. He reached again for Keith, getting his attention and motioned a sign to ‘wait here’. Again, Keith’s eyes expressed a ‘where the fuck else am I going to go?’ that Lance was oblivious to. He had kicked on his pack and shot straight up to daylight. He wasn’t sure if Lance would make it back in time. He fought hard with himself to not release his breath, as much as it pushed to get out. It hurt, and his body started to tremble. At least he was able to see Lance. At least he wasn’t going to be completely alone as he went. Keith felt a hand on his shoulder again. He opened his eyes and an expression of calmness finally came over him. He could accept going with Lance beside him. Keith was about to finally let go he saw Lance reach for him with his other hand, pulling the mask down from his face. Before Keith could mouth any sort of message, Lance pulled him in.

 _What the hell?_ Lance’s lips were warm. They were soft too. But what the hell was he doing? He tried to pull back and away from him, but Lance held him close. He reached with his other hand to tug on Keith’s chin, forcing his mouth open. Keith was much too tired to put up a struggle and his lips parted against Lance’s. Suddenly, he felt pressure. Air! Lance was giving him air! Keith’s relief and excitement overwhelmed him. He leaned into him and inhaled. (Which threw Lance for a small loop.) Lance pushed Keith back after that short burst of air and motioned for Keith to release it. He was skeptical of the idea to let go of the bit of breath he just received but did so. The release of carbon monoxide built up in his body was almost euphoric and once the bubbles stopped, Lance leaned in to give him the rest. Keith accepted eagerly. Lance swallowed thickly afterward and pointed upward, signaling he was going to surface again. Keith nodded and waited. It was an arduous process that they went through twice more before they were both comfortable. Now they could try and figure out how to get out of the situation.

Lance reached for the chain attached to the weight and pulled with both feet planted squarely on the ground for best leverage. He pulled. His result was much the same. He looked up at Keith and Keith shook his head. Lance grabbed Keith by the foot and pulled him closer and mouthed ‘arms’. Keith nodded. Lance hooked an arm around one of Keith’s before he grabbed the chain again. This time, he kicked on his booster pack. The weight lifted, Lance still clearly straining, however. Using the arm Lance had hooked to stay low and for leverage, Keith managed to shimmy the chains around his wrist under his feet again and passed the weight. Just as he passed them, Lance dropped it. Keith held up his wrists and smiled. Lance did the same and held out a thumbs up. Keith pulled himself down beside Lance and motioned behind them. They would try dragging it. Lance nodded and fell back into position. Taking cues off one another, they pulled. It took tons of effort, but the pyramid slid. Slowly. Gathering sand and catching rocks in its wake. That was why it was shaped that way. If it was a normal sphere, moving it would be much easier. Dragging a hard edge would prove far more difficult and it would snag on everything. _Shit, these guys were good. They really_ have _done this before_. Keith yanked harder in a small bout of indignation and air escaped his lungs. He covered his mouth, remembering himself and looked over to Lance. He noticed the bubbles and pointed to his mouth. Keith nodded. Lance made for the surface again. He mentally kicked himself for leaving his helmet with Red. This process would have been far easier if he had it. Thank goodness for the booster pack. Unfortunately, the wait was a little bit longer than Keith could appreciate and when he returned, he practically yanked Lance in for the breath. The paladin could feel himself flush slightly, but Keith made no note of it. After he left for his own bit of fresh air, he returned to Keith and pointed behind them. Lance angled his arm and motioned the other up along it, signing that the direction he came was sloped and they would be able to drag the weight that direction and eventually make it to the beach. Keith signed an ‘ok’ and they started the process.

Keith alone would never have been able to move along the sea floor. But with Lance’s help, it was feasible. With his booster pack, it was possible. It was not a young afternoon when Keith was hurled to his death. The shore felt like miles away and the process was slowed heavily due to Lance constantly having to surface for the both of them. By the time they broke the surface of the water, the sun had begun to kiss the horizon and the day started bleeding into twilight. Both took several deep breaths, hacking and coughing enough to lose a lung between them. They managed to drag Keith far enough Lance could pull out his rifle and actually fire it. The chain busted apart and Keith was finally free, falling backward into the water. Lance, still heaving, himself, reached down and pulled Keith back up to his feet and slung an arm across his shoulders, helping him to the dryness of the shore. Both collapsed, water-logged and weary, rolling onto their backs and silently vowing to never take oxygen for granted again.

Several long moments passed in silence until Lance finally voice his voice. “Keith… what the **_quiznak_ **?”

The dark-haired pile of soggy rags couldn’t help but sputter a laugh that quickly degraded into a coughing fit. As it passed, and he settled, he looked over to the paladin beside him and smiled. Lance couldn’t help but smiled back. Keith was safe and seemed little worse for the wear. The effort was more than worth it. He found himself taken by the beaming smile on Keith’s face as they laid on the muddy sand, recuperating. By then, though, their breathing had normalized and the became washed over by fatigue. Lance watched as Keith’s eyes drifted shut and paid attention to the rise and fall of his chest. “Are you ok?”

Keith nodded sluggishly. “You know…” his eyes opened, and he looked up at the darkening sky. Distant stars were starting to find their own light as the sun faded. “I really thought I was done. I don’t know how you found me way the hell out here, Lance. But I’ve never been so glad to see anyone like I was when I saw your face.” He managed to hold out a fist toward Lance’s direction. “Thanks, man.”

Lance gave him an awkward smile and offered his own fist in solidarity. After a gentle bump, both arms fell where they were. “Anytime, Keith.”

Once a good bit of their strength had returned, they managed to build a small fire to warm themselves by and dry off. Lance took great care in the angle of his gun as he shot off the remaining pieces of restraint on Keith’s ankles. He waited for Keith to offer a wrist, several links dangling from it. He settled it onto the sand, balled his hand and turned away, shutting his eyes. Lance placed the end of the barrel against the metal piece that the links held to and fired. The shackle fell, and Keith hissed. The metal was hot, and he rubbed at his wrist to soothe it. They decided to leave the other circle until they had better tools to deal with it. Keith could manage.

“Alright.” Keith stood, pulling his hood over his shoulders now that it had dried.

“Where are you going?” Lance holstered his bayard.

“I’m going back.” Keith slipped the mask over his face again.

“What?!” Lance jumped to his feet, “Dude, are you fucking crazy? They almost _killed_ you!”

“I have to, Lance.” His tone was far less concerned than Lance’s was.

“You really _are_ insane.”

“Look, I have to see this through, Lance. I came here because I feel like there’s something important that we need to know about and I can’t just leave because it’s too hard.” He heard Lance groanbehind him as he adjusted his sleeve and suddenly he walked passed him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going with you.” Lance grumbled, “What’s it look like?”

Keith stopped a protest. If it wasn’t for Lance, he would be an ocean corpse by now. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to have Lance come with him, considering how easily those two had gotten the jump on him the first time. “I promise it’ll be quick. I already downloaded the information from the mainframe. I just need to get back my drive.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on. Sooner we go, sooner we leave.” Lance pushed some brush aside and waved at Keith to get a move on.

 

* * *

 

 

They entered much in the same fashion Keith had earlier. Still the halls seemed empty. He found it odd that, after finding someone snooping around the facility earlier, they didn't find it imparative to bolster security or even have anyone scout the premisis. It still looked deserted. Keith new better. He had filled Lance in on what had happened and how he managed to wind himself throw to the bottom of the sea. That was more than enough for the paladin to be one edge. Spooky phantom noises and getting jumped without warning? And it was hard as hell to ever get the jump on Keith, the guy lived on eggshells waiting to pick a fight. Lance's nevrves we're going to be prickling the whole time they were in that place. His only relief was that Keith knew exactly where to make a beeline for.

“It's just down this hall.” Keith whispered as he held the door for Lance.

“Good.” Lance nodded, walking into the hall, whispering back hoarsely, “We can get the hell out of here soon.”

Keith eased the door shut and crouched next to Lance, who checked for signs of activity, rifle at the ready. Quiet. He looked back over his shoulder and motioned a move forward. Their steps were quiet and, more importantly, quick. Once at the door to the control room, they pressed their backs against the wall and looked at one another. Keith nodded and Lance took a deep breath, standing slowly.

In the beat of a heart, he pivoted on the ball of his foot and faced into the room, gun up and aimed for anything that moved, trigger finger at the ready. It shifted quickly left and right and left again. The place was desolate. Lance poked his head back out and nodded at Keith and he rushed into the room, dropping his hood to see better. Lance watched as Keith's fingers flew across the computer panel. _We just need the drive and we're gone._

Lance's eyes drifted up toward Keith's face. His eyes were always so intense. Except for that moment on the beach. He had seen Keith smile before. Several times. But there was something about that moment on the beach that struck Lance and stayed with him. It was in that moment that Lance decided he would do everything in his power to never allow Keith to find himself in a position where he would ever be afraid he would lose his life again. As his mind recalled the events earlier that day, he unintentionally remembered when Keith had been desperate for air, yanking at Lance and seeking his lips. He felt his cheeks flush and cleared his throat. This wasn't the time. Lance turned back to the door to keep watch. When he did he felt a shadow move over him.

“Aw, shit…” before he could lift his weapon a hand circled around his neck and he was lifted off the ground. He felt his airway shut and his ridle hit the floor as he reached to attempt prying free of the suffocating grip. He coughed and sputtered, fighting to get a breath in. Suddenly, he began to feel very weak. It was as though all of his energy and fight was seeping out of him and his struggling began to wain.

“What is i-” Keith heard the curse as he ejected the drive from the panel and turned, “Fuck!”

“My, my, but the port is busy today…” it was the same voice as the one that afternoon.

That only made Keith move with _more_ ferver. In a flash, he dove for the gun at Lance's feet. He grabbed it, sliding between the assailants legs. He hit the wall and fired twice at the broad back behind him. He heard a cry and Lance dropped to the floor, gasping for air.

“Kroxtla, you’re incredibly irritating.” The figure turned toward Keith with a growl. By then, Keith had already righted himself and kicked off the wall, swinging an elbow and it connected with the attacker's face, knocking him a step back. Before he could get a stable footing again, Keith rammed a shoulder into his stomach, shoving him back into the room. Lance was quick enough to kick the man's leg out from underneath him. As he tripped backward, he head connected with the edge of a nearby console and he hit the ground. The groan that followed made it know that he survived the blow.

“You ok?” Keith asked as he held a hand out for Lance. He nodded taking it, rubbing his neck as he stood. “Good. Let's go before anyone else pops out of nowhere.”

After a backward glance, they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * [Tumblr](https://crystalsilhouette.tumblr.com/)
>   * [FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/73584/)
> 



	3. Earth

**Earth**  

Keith had decided their first course of action was to take their spoils to the Blade of Marmora to analyze what information they managed to retrieve. It didn't look like much in his initial skim, but if anyone could glean anything notable, it was the Blade. Lance was keen to follow along just in case it was something that the other Paladins needed to be informed about. They each set the coordinates in their vessels before discreetly making their exit from the planets atmosphere, still highly wary of the command ship’s surveillance.

 

“Lance, you ok?”

 

McClain adjusted the levels of Red's screens as they jumped before answering. “Yeah... That guy came out of nowhere, man. Just poof!” He reached a hand around his throat lightly as he recalled. It was still a little sore, but there was something slightly off about that chokehold he couldn't put a finger on.

 

“No kidding.” He heard Keith sigh over the comm, “I never even heard them come up behind me the first time. If you weren't there this last time -”

 

“Hey man, don't sweat it.” Lance interjected. He really didn't want Keith venturing down that road. He didn't want to venture down that road himself. That image of Keith floating in black nothingness when he first found him desolate, alone, and clearly out of hope flashed in his mind. “I’ve got your back.” And, if he had any say in what the future brought, he always would.

 

“...Thank you, Lance.” He could hear the sincerity in Keith's voice and it made him smile. He could feel the same kind of contentment within his lion. We did good, Red. We did real good.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Keith wanted to squirm a little bit under Kolivan’s stare. The silence between them pricked at his sense of duty to follow orders, but he held his ground; fists clenched and brows furrowed in an effort to bolster his resolve.

 

“Gend.” A member of the Blade of Marmora looked up from his panel and quickly moved to Kolivan's side with a curt 'yessir.’ Kolivan's eyes hardly twitched his direction. “Take this to Brakk and the others.” Finally, Keith gained some respite from his leader's glower as he turned to hand over the drive. “See if we can't find anything useful from these files. Make sure to keep a sharp eye out for anything that might be of interest to Zarkon.”

 

“Of course, Sir.” With a nod, Gend headed out to make his delivery.

 

“Thank you, Kolivan.” Keith sighed, Lance picked up on the relief in his body language. He couldn't recall ever seeing Keith so tense before.

 

“I will call for you when the analysis is complete. That will be all.” Kolivan's tone hid any sense of disappointment or anger over the matter he may have harbored. For now, Keith was alright with it. Once they found what the Empire was waiting or looking for, Kolivan would forget about Keith's slightly recalcitrant behavior. Then, they could rightly focus on a real way to hit Zarkon where it would hurt.

 

Keith and Lance left the control room and headed for Communications. In a few short moments, Keith was greeted with a screen full of familiar faces he had missed quite a bit. Shiro, naturally, stood in the focus of the screen. Pidge and Hunk, upon seeing Keith's visage on their end of the communication, waved delightedly in the background.

 

“Lance?” Shiro’s curious expression was filled expected, “I didn't expect you to go so far to 'rehearse’...”

 

“Ah haha…” Lance rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Yeah, well…”

 

“Keith, how are things with you and the Blade of Marmora?” Shiro's eyes fell on Lance's call companion and Keith warmed to the familiar gentle smile on Shiro's face. “Better, now, thanks to Lance.” He placed a hand on the Blue Paladin’s shoulder. Lance’s shoulders eased with a soft glance in Keith's direction. “I sort of ran into some trouble and Lance saved my skin. I wouldn't be standing here now if he didn't come and help me out.”

 

“Seriously?” True concern washed over Shiro's face over the news. “Well, I'm glad you're alright. What happened?”

 

“That's what we were calling about.” Lance stepped forward and Keith saw the shift in McClain's demeanor. “There's Galra activity at a planet called Vartex. But it's strange because they're just sitting there, - so I guess it's not really, like, _active_ activity - but there's gotta be something that they're interested in.”

 

As Lance explained the situation, Keith took note of how different he was since the last time he saw him. He had an air of maturity and a staunchness that Keith had to admire. It really kind of suits him. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he discreetly studied his companion making his debrief. He liked seeing this side of McClain. But he also realized he had missed a bit of his normal Lancey antics too. He was pleased to see those idiosyncrasies still shine through the conversation.

 

“As soon as we find out what it is, we'll be sure to fill you all in.”

 

“Sounds good, Lance.” Shiro nodded, “We'll be waiting to hear from you and Keith. And guys, stay safe.”

 

“We will.” Keith nodded sincerely as they signed off. Once the screen went dark, Lance sighed heavily and rubbed his shoulder.

 

“You alright, buddy?”

 

“Ah. Yeah…” Lance groaned a little, “I just feel kind of… _off?_ I don't know. I think that guy did something when he grabbed me. I felt… _weak._ Like…” He honestly wasn’t sure how to describe what he felt. But he really didn’t think it was too much to concern anyone over. “Ah, anyway! I'll be fine.”

_“_ You do seem a little drained.”

 

“Hah. You're one to talk.” Lance quipped with a smirk.

 

Keith rolled his eyes lightly, “Come on. Let's get you some rest.”

 

The chance to lay down actually sounded pretty good to Lance. There was more than physical pain in that grasp. It was like he could feel the energy - the life - being pulled from him. The fight he had in him just evaporated and seeped from within. It was almost as though the guy was syphoning it out in his grip. Whatever was going on, Lance knew he didn't ever want to go through that again. He couldn't imagine how Keith felt if he was this bushed. The guy had practically drowned, after all. He didn't even know what had happened to him before that. Keith was a brick wall, as far as Lance could tell. He had just gone through a personal hell and, now, seemed perfectly fine; like it was just a normal thing.

 

How did he do it? How strong was his sense of duty to just brush off such a close call so easily? He watched Keith from behind as he followed the man down sterile, uniform halls. He remembered the way his eyes looked at him when he found him. A stormy mix of happiness, defeat, relief from solitude, and the gleam of regret thinking final thoughts of goodbye. He didn't think Keith was physically capable of such a look; or even knew what 'giving up’ was. That moment changed so much of how Lance viewed Keith. In the Garrison, he was a phantom. He was untouchable. Unreachable. As a paladin, he was real. And he had become a brother, an equal. With the Blade of Marmora he had almost fallen away again, but after that one moment… It was then Lance realized he never wanted to lose Keith. He had been gone for so long, but he was still _reachable_. There was always that thin connecting thread that never went away. Lance could cope with that. But if Keith was ever _gone._ McClain knew, even only thinking about it then, it would break him.

 

“That’s it.”

 

Lance flinched at the words. “What?”

 

Keith had stopped walking and Lance, lost in his cloud of thoughts, nearly bumped into him.

 

“We’re here.” Keith opened the door to his barracks room.

 

“Oh.” Lance sighed softly and stepped in.

 

The place was a stark contrast to that of the Castle of Lions. The castle was brightly lit and lightly colored walls seemed to help keep the place bathed in a welcoming kind of warmth. These rooms that the Blade of Marmora lived in were darkly hued and the glow of every light seemed to be on the lower end of the color spectrum. It was lit well enough to see, but it wasn’t nearly as bright and cheery in comparison to his normal Altean surroundings. No wonder Keith seemed to feel more at home with these guys.

 

Keith stepped in behind Lance. Glancing around the room, it was just as lived in as Keith’s old room back in the castle. Almost like he was only ever living on borrowed time anywhere he went. Lance’s shoulders slumped a bit, but he said nothing on the subject. The door shut, and Keith walked passed him, opening a drawer that was once flush with the wall.

 

“The bed's over there if you want to crash.”

“What about you?” Lance rubbed the back of his head, feeling a bit like he was intruding.

 

“I’m fine.” Keith rifled through some things Lance couldn’t see. “If I start to feel drowsy, I’ll just kick you out of the bed.” Keith smirked at him over his shoulder and Lance smiled, just a little.

 

He was too drained to argue any more than that, so he made his way to the bed, shed his armor, and drifted quickly to sleep. Rest didn't come as easily, however. His dreams were dark and unsettling, like a storm cloud had swallowed him whole and all he could see were flashes of light; red, white, crimson, amber. He felt lost, tired, and the hair on his arms and neck stood on end. Lance couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. No, of being _hunted_. And stirred in with all that emotional adrenaline was the frantic search for Keith. Lance had to find Keith. He didn't know where to look, he barely knew which direction was up. But he moved - however he even managed that as disembodied as he seemed to be - as fast as he could through the curtain of haze and light. Search and calling, or at least trying to call. He wasn't at all sure if he made any sound at all. Was Lance even _in_ the dream? There was no physical form. There was no sound whenever he tried to make any. It was just movement, shifting, and confusion. Suddenly there was a blinding flash and he could feel the clap of thunder slam against his chest.

 

Lance shot up from the pillow in a start, a hand darting up and grasping his chest. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily. For not seeming to have any physical link to that dream, that thunder clap sure as hell hurt. His blue eyes darted around the room, trying to get his bearings once more. Black walls, dim lights, his armor resting on the floor near the bed… he was starting to remember.

 

“Lance?” He heard his name and looked across the room. “You ok?”

 

Keith sat at a table against the opposite wall of the bed, tools laid out on the surface, along with his arm still encased in the shackle from Vartex. Keith was bleeding.

 

“Y-yeah…” Lance shifted off the bed and moved over to the table. “What about you? What happened?” Lance reached for a small hand towel Keith had near his pile of tools and dabbed at the blood.

 

“Ah, yeah.” Keith winced a little. “You just startled me waking up like that and my hand slipped.” Keith lifted the flathead screwdriver in his free hand to show the implement that had tasted human flesh.

 

Keith had been trying the entire time to figure out how to get loose of his shackle. There was a good array of items and tools he had gone through in trying to pry the thing off but couldn't quite seem to manage. In the middle of his last attempt, Lance sitting up in such a huff made Keith jump and the end of the screwdriver found his open palm.

 

“Why didn't you tell me? I'm sure this would be easier with three hands instead of just one.” Lance took the screwdriver and another prying implement and began to feel for a seam in the metal. Keith wiped away a bit more blood and held still as Lance wiggled in the edge of a blade carefully.

 

“Sorry about scaring you.” Lance twisted carefully.

 

“Bad dream?” Keith's eyes watched over Lance's face as he posed the question.

The circle pried open just enough to allow the edge of the screwdriver in now. “Yeah… it was weird. I never had - Whoa!” Lance had twisted the tool and suddenly symbols flickered in and out all around the metal.

 

“Yeah. Apparently, it does that…” Keith shifted in his seat, keeping his wrist still. “I'm hoping that means it's close to popping open.”

 

“Well, let's find out.”

 

Keith nodded, grabbing the circle with his free hand to keep it steady. Lance tightened his grip on the handle using both hands and twisted as hard as he could. Keith pushed back and both struggled with it for at least a solid minute. The circle’s writing flickered more and more as they pried it open further. It snapped. The symbols faded and Keith was free. He rolled his wrist with a pleased sigh.

 

“Thanks… again.”

 

“Should probably take care of that.” Lance took Keith's hand and dabbed the bit of new blood that dripped from the cut, “Could get bad if you let it.”

 

Keith nodded, watching as Lance slid his thumb next to the break in his skin. He couldn't help but notice how light Lance's touch was.

 

“Hey…” Lance had softened his tone a bit “are you ok?”

 

“Hm? Sure, it stings a little. But I'll get something for it and-”

 

“That's not what I mean…” Lance's brows furrowed as he studied his companion and suddenly Keith realized what it was he was alluding to.

 

“....” He worked so diligently to busy his mind with other things, more important things. He didn't expect McClain to bring it right up. He swallowed thickly, and Lance noticed Keith's eyes grow distant. “Well, I-”

 

There was a knock. Keith's eyes lifted, and Lance turned to the door.

 

“What is it?” Keith finally called out.

 

“Kolivan is asking for you to meet with him.”

 

“Tell him we're on our way.”

 

There was a door-muffled compliance and after a quick bandage over his hand, the two made to meet with the leader of the Blade of Marmora. He was an easy man to find. If he wasn't at main control, Kolivan usually spent most of his time in his office, though he hated calling it that. To save themselves from an outright grimace from Kolivan, the other soldiers of the Blade took to calling it “M Center”. It was more or less an accurate title. The room was nigh the center of the headquarters, as well as where their leader tended to spend a good amount of time. It seemed fitting to give the Blade of Marmora a heart. Kolivan seemed less irritated with it as well.

 

When they entered the room, they found Kolivan leaning against the front of his desk, looking over a slate. Keith was hopeful about it being something useful from the data he and Lance recovered. The door shut behind them and Kolivan set it on the desk behind him.

 

“So what did they find? A weapon? A power source?” Keith was getting eager. Lance craned his head slightly over Keith's shoulder to see if he could steal a peek at the slate one the desk. He had little success.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Both paused and looked at the Galran. “What?” Keith was sure that was wrong.

 

“There was nothing. There was at least 100 years of data, going by the dates. Ship logs, charters, ledgers, manifests. It's an abandoned space port for a dead city, Keith.”

 

“Well, I'm sure there are other sources of intel.” Lance was surprised that with that amount of gathered data, there was nothing useable.

 

“Right. We can go back and scout for other cities, other places that might be geared more toward defenses or the planets actual history.” Keith turned to Lance, “You up to it?”

 

“No.”

 

“What?”

 

Kolivan's headed bowed and his palms rested behind him on the table surface. “No, Keith.”

 

“But, Kolivan, this could be exactly what we need to fight back! You _know_ there's something there!”

 

“Or it could just be another 100 years of customs forms and itineraries.” Kolivan took in a heavy breath before slowly letting it out. “Keith, you risked a lot… and it was a risk that didn't pay off.”

 

Both could tell that they didn't like the direction the conversation was heading.

 

“It was a little bit of a close call, sure. But we made it out fine. We can try again. If we have maybe two or three more guys it’ll be better!”

 

“Keith, listen to me. I can't have you going out against my orders. I asked you to leave it be, but you went anyway. And it nearly killed you and the Blue Paladin. But I'm talking about risking all of the revolution. You got lucky this time. But if the Blade of Marmora was exposed to the empire we could lose centuries of effort.”

 

“Hey, wait a minute-” Lance was silenced when Kolivan lifted his hand.

 

“I'm going to pull you out of the field for a while, Keith…”

“What?!” Keith was clearly upset about the decision. “Kolivan, you can't-”

 

“I know your heart is in the right place, Keith, but I can't have you going against orders. Trust me, this isn't an easy decision for me to make.”

 

“Koliv-”

 

“Don't make this harder than it already is, Keith.” the leader's tone became laced with heavy authority. He was clearly starting to become irritated with the arguing. “Give me some time and we can figure out a suitable reassignment for you.”

 

“Reassignment?! You can't-” Keith was really beginning to get worked up and Lance could tell that it wouldn't end well if Keith let the anger win. He placed a hand on Keith's shoulder. When Keith turned to him, the look on his face was that of hurt and betrayal fronted by total indignant aggression. Lance shook his head slightly and Keith seethed, clenching his teeth before wrenching his shoulder away and storming out of the room.

Kolivan sighed heavily reaching to rub his eyes. It had obviously been a conversation that he did not wish to have, but as a leader knew he couldn't avoid.

 

“Hey… Kolivan.”

 

“Yes, Lance?” He groaned.

 

“If you _have_ to ground him, can I at least take him back with me for a while? I think he could use a little bit of time for himself…”

 

“Yes… perhaps that would be wise.”

 

Lance nodded, feeling a 'thank you’ didn't quite fit after what had just taken place. He turned and headed after Keith.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Lance stood outside Keith's door for a moment, listening for any sound of anger on the other side. He sighed quietly before opening the door and stepping in. Keith stood inside, his back at Lance, tense and fists clenched. McClain's shoulders slumped. If Lance ever thought he had a hard day, it was nothing compared to what Keith was having to suffer right now.

 

“Keith… buddy..” Lance made to move away from the door that had shut behind him, but as soon as he did, Keith snapped.

 

Keith slammed a fist into the nearest wall. “This is _bullshit!_ He can't pull me from the field!” His fingers dug into his dark hair, the frustration clear all over his face.

 

“I'm sure he's only doing what he thinks is best.” Lance moved over to Keith's side in his attempt to console. Immediately, he was shoved back.

 

“And whose fucking side are you _on?!_ ” Keith's scowl was directed at Lance now. “You think I should be kicked out of the Blade too, don't you?”

 

“What? No. No one said you had to _leave_ the Blade.” Lance was taken aback by the rough physical contact, but he knew Keith was simply trying to deal with his anger. It was a bit out of line, however, so he was just a bit wary of Keith’s actions.

 

“Really? I’m a _threat_ , Lance! How can he see me as a _threat_ when I’m risking my life against the Galra Empire?” He kicked the chair next to him as he yelled. Lance had seen Keith upset before, but not to such a point.

 

“Dude, calm down.” Lance tried approaching him again, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Don’t touch me!” Keith smacked Lance’s hand off his shoulder and grimaced at McClain. Lance stood and stared at Keith for a moment, but decided then that Keith was letting himself get too far out of hand over this. He needed help. And he was going to give it to him. Whether he wanted it or not.

 

“Keith, seriously. Relax.” Lance reached for his shoulder again, but his time Keith put up his own hands, shoving Lance’s away with his left and swinging at his face with a right hook. The fist connected with Lance's jaw and it immediately started to throb. He clenched his teeth and in a single fluid motion, his left hand grabbed that wrist and twisted. Keith was forced to turn around, the arm dictating his movements as it was wrenched. As soon as he spun, Lance hooked his free arm over Keith’s other shoulder and across the front of sternum, latching Keith against his body and stymieing his violent outburst. “Relax!”

 

“Fuck you, Lance!” Keith growled as he reached with his free hand to pull Lance’s arm away. He had grabbed ahold of his shoulder, so Keith couldn’t get the hold to budge.

 

“Breathe.” Lance huffed against Keith’s ear, his breath straining with the amount of effort it took just to hold the man still. “Deep breaths…”

 

Keith fought him still but found himself taking those breaths anyway. His subconscious more inclined to listen than he had wanted. He was immobile. Trapped. Helpless. Hopeless. All in one moment, he was drowning again. But this time it was his own emotions that choked him. Keith stopped. He stopped yelling. He stopped struggling. He stopped raging entirely. When Lance felt him ease, he let go and turned him to face him. He held Keith lightly by either side of his face.

 

“Hey…” He leaned in close, their foreheads nearly touching.

 

Keith’s eyes focused at the call and what he found was Lance’s vivid cerulean pair. He cracked. A tear streamed down his face and half a second later, Keith’s knees buckled as his body racked with sobs. Lance followed him to their knees, immediately pulling the man into his arms tightly. _Finally..._ Lance stroked the back of Keith’s head, his brows knitted tightly as he listened to the hurt and pain spill from Keith’s chest.

 

Finally, Keith was starting to allow himself to face everything he bottled up. Lance left him with no choice but to accept it all. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. It was all too much to shut behind a closet door. He couldn’t fight it anymore. His instinct to swing and slash only put Lance in a bad way anyhow. He knew none of it was Lance’s fault. He didn’t really _want_ to fight Lance, but Lance was the only one around. Once McClain had him pinned, which was another issue all together, he had nothing left. No option but to let it out and fall into that festering despair. He couldn’t even bring himself to care about what Lance thought of him as he cried into his shoulder. He was a broken man and broken men rarely had anything left to hide.

 

Lance never said a word. He never moved a muscle. He understood well enough how much this release was necessary for Keith and he would stay as long as he needed. Lance wished there was so much more he could do to help take away all the hurt and frustration inside. But all he could do was wait. So he did, running his finger through Keith's hair and caressing his trembling shoulders. The moment there was anything he would need, Lance wanted Keith to know he was there.

 

It was several long minutes before Keith had calmed. Both had shifted onto the ground, off their knees. Keith had tucked his head into the crook of Lance’s neck as he sat between his legs, leaned against his broad torso.

 

“Better…?” Lance asked softly, stroking Keith's dark strands.

 

Keith found it strangely relaxing. “…I'm sorry I hit you.”

 

Lance smiled lightly. “Hey, if it helps, I’m willing take a few punches.”

 

Keith sat up and looked up at him. “You shouldn't have to put up with my shit. That isn't fair to you.”

 

“Keith, whatever you need to feel better; if I can give it to you, I will.”

 

Keith sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, “Stop it. I don’t need your corny lines.”

 

Lance's smile brightened then. He reached for Keith's injured hand. “Do you need the sun? How about the moon? The stars?”

 

Keith gave him a look of irritation. It was just like him to tease in such a situation. It was like telling him not to push the big shiny red button. Really, Keith felt he only had himself to blame there. Couldn’t McClain at least give him _one_ actual moment of genuine peace? Lance brought the hand to the untouched side of his face.

                                                                                                                 

“Do you need to hit me again? Or do you need another hug? I'm actually _really_ good at those.” Lance turned into Keith's open palm and lightly pressed his lips against it. “What about something else?” he gave Keith a sidelong glance with those sapphire eyes and Keith felt his cheeks flush.

_Something else._

Before he could even ask what that could be, Keith felt his lips become trapped against Lance's own. He froze. Then felt himself ease just a bit before Lance shifted back, but only slightly. His lips were still only inches away. Keith could feel the warm breaths softly spilling against his own.

 

“Your side.” Lance whispered. “I'm always on your side.”

 

That simple gesture made Keith feel so much more at ease. After feeling so alone, it felt good to know someone was in his corner. And Keith felt Lance was being truly sincere. He knew Lance and he knew when he was _really_ being a jackass. McClain was so far from it at that moment, Keith couldn't mistake it even if he wanted to. His chest felt so much lighter, but tight all at the same time. The relief slipped down his face in another small stream of tears.

 

Keith wanted Lance to kiss him again. But he didn't want to wait for it. He reached for McClain and took the kiss himself. Lance was slightly surprised by the eager reaction but answered him in kind. Keith recalled in the back of his mind the softness of Lance's lips, having felt them before beneath the gentle sway of ocean currents. They were still as supple as then, which, knowing Lance, was hardly surprising.

 

Was this what he needed? Shiro had always been there for Keith whenever he felt clouded in doubt or swallowed in sorrows. He was always Keith's rock to reach out and hold onto. But this felt so different. This was someone reaching out to _him_ and pulling _him_ in; not into confusion and anger like being pulled usually felt. It was warm. It was calming. And, even if it might not have been something he needed, he was quickly starting to find it was something he wanted. Kisses grew deeper and arms reached further, pulling closer. Shiro calmed his circling doubts, but Lance seemed to calm the storms in his heart and mind. Keith felt Lance’s arm snake around his waist and pull him closer, the other gently stroking the arm Keith had hooked around his shoulders. He started to relish the touches but ached more for those lips until both had become so out of breath the room started to spin around them. McClain broke away with a slow, drawn out kiss. After a deep breath for each of them he pressed his lips to Keith's forehead.

 

“I’ve never been so scared...” Keith's voice was quiet and broken when he spoke. Keith could remember the way he felt himself shut down from the inside when he floated in those waters. “I can remember how cold it felt. How empty it was… How _alone_ I felt.”

 

“Keith, I promise…” Lance reached to stroke his cheek. “I'm ready to do everything I can to never let you feel that way again.”

“Lance…” he felt the need to say something, he just didn't know what.

 

Instead, Lance leaned in and kissed him one more time. Keith liked that better and stole two more. McClain moved to get up and held a hand out for Keith.

 

“I know you'd never admit it, but I'm sure you're pretty fucking beat after today.” Keith took his hand and Lance lead him to the bed. “Some rest will do you good. And I mean _real_ rest. Kolivan might be pulling you from the field, but that doesn't mean you have to be shut up in this place.”

 

Keith reluctantly laid into bad. He was suddenly very aware of how warm it had been next to Lance on the floor. He rolled back over to say something, but before he could Lance shifted into the bed next to him. Keith was glad he didn’t need to ask. He wasn’t really sure how to. He wrapped his arms tightly around McClain's torso, resting his head on his chest. A moment more and sleep had taken him. Lance listened to Keith's deep breathing, gently stroking his back and shoulders. He would take Keith back to the Castle of Lions. He would show him how much he wasn't alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking around! Work has been slightly non-stop lately, so writing has been difficult. I really hope that the wait was worth it. Thoughts and input are, of course, always welcome. 
> 
> Thanks for the read!
> 
>   * [Tumblr](https://crystalsilhouette.tumblr.com/)
>   * [FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/73584/)
> 



	4. Forest

**Forest**

 

It was different. They were all different. They were even different among themselves. But they all had one thing in common. Keith. Keith and his growing love for hugs. He never really got them very often and they were usually only from Shiro. Because of how few and far between they usually were, he cherished them deeply, but it was often he would forget how they felt and how much he enjoyed them.

 

He found that he seemed enjoy Hunk’s embrace the most. More than likely because his was the strongest. Hunk was so emotionally liberated; the man wore his heart on his sleeve and gave no hoots about who cared one way or another. It was so easy for the larger man to pour his delight and compassion into one gigantic back crushing body lock. Keith couldn’t breathe for several seconds, but he felt that he couldn’t be lost in a hug like that. He felt safe. He felt secure. Coran was a surprisingly close second, he could tell even through sharing it with Allura – whose was unsurprisingly delicate and proper. Pidge’s hug he liked just for the sake of her trying to be on par with Hunk's hug. He imagined, sandwiched between Katie and Matt, they had shared many tight sibling clinches. Keith was glad to share a ‘Herculean Holt ArmHuggedon’ (trademark pending, Matthew Amadeus Holt) with them. He wouldn’t take any single one of those hugs for granted.

 

“It’s truly wonderful to have you back in the Castle of Lions, Keith.” Allura and Shiro were more than anxious to hear about what transpired with Keith and Lance as far as Vartex, but they were just as eager to welcome home a member of the family.

 

“We’ve certainly missed you.” Shiro took him by the shoulder. “I know I have.”

 

Keith let the corner of his lips curl up in a demure smile. “Thanks, Shiro. It feels really good to be back.”

 

“How long will you be staying with us?”

 

Keith flinched slightly at Allura’s innocent inquiry. It was still a bittersweet subject in Keith's mind. “Actually, I… might be around for a bit.”

 

“I'm glad to hear we'll have you around for a while, Keith. The team isn't the same without you.” Shiro spoke with a smile that shifted into knitted brows of concern, “But I feel like something happened since we talked last…”

 

Keith spent the rest of the afternoon explaining everything that had come to pass the last two cycles. It actually kind of shocked him how little time had passed. And yet, even then, the trauma still felt minutes old; every once in a while, he would catch himself taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to convince himself he was able to. Keith recounted the report from the scout unit, the blatant disinterest in it on Kolivan's part. He described the planet and the unusual atmosphere of abandonment. Keith again recalled the panic and helplessness he felt as he described getting ambushed and tossed like trash at the week's end. He could feel the strings of anxiety tighten inside him as he relived it in his mind, but he moved on as quickly as he could. He brought up Lance pulling him out of the water, (leaving out a few select details,) saving his skin and helping him retrieve what he had gone for. With clenched teeth he relayed the conversation that he had with Kolivan before storming out of M-Center and blew right into Lance suggesting he come back to the Castle for a bit of time, (leaving out a few more _select details._ )

 

"So... I'm not sure exactly _when_ I go back to the Blade of Marmora." He sighed heavily, "If I do at all..."

When, at last, Shiro had come to pull him into an embrace, he truly felt home. He was glad that Shiro didn’t let go right away. He could feel tears burning in his eyes and he refused to open them lest any of them break free in front of them. But he was home. There was a moment not far in the past that he thought he would never be able to hug any of them ever again. But there was one other thing; none of them made him feel the way he did when he was in Lance’s arms.

 

"I know what the Blade of Marmora meant to you, Keith." Shiro pulled him back to arm's length, "I'm sorry things turned out the way they did. But, more than anything, I'm just glad that - after all of that - you're ok."

Keith gave him a weak and crooked smile.

 

"Blade of Marmora or not, you're still part of the team here and this will always be a home to you." Allura reached to place a soothing hand on Keith's arm and he nodded.

 

"Thank you, Princess."

 

It warmed Keith to hear them say those things. And he knew they were sincere in their sentiments, but still, he only felt pacified for the time. There was still something swirling in the pit of his stomach about Vartex. He couldn't ask Shiro or Allura to keep any sort of eye on the place. Voltron had fewer resources than the Blade of Marmora and, according to their leader, they were already spread thin themselves. He knew he wouldn't be able to find any sort of respite until he had the answers he wanted. He just had to figure out how he could get them, especially _now._

 

 _"_ Uhm, you ok?" Keith blinked out of his trance to find Lance waving a hand in his face.

 

"Lance..." Keith had left the control room after the conversation with Shiro and Allura had ended, absentmindedly making his way down the halls while his thoughts circled around Vartex. He never noticed Lance heading the opposite way and bumping into him.

 

“Everything alright?” Lance's brow piqued in light concern.

 

Keith thought a moment before glancing around and grabbed Lance by the wrist, leading him down a much narrower path. After a second turn, he stopped and wrapped his arms around McClain, burying his face in that perfect space between his neck and shoulder. “Thanks, Lance. I'm glad you had me come back.” Keith tightened his embrace in emphasis. “I really needed this.”

 

Lance’s quiet, delighted surprised ebbed and a gentle smile moved across his lips. He hugged Keith back just as tight and Keith could feel what he missed in every other hug, even if he could quite place what it was. “Good. I'm happy to hear that.”

 

Keith moved to smile gratefully for a moment and Lance took the opportunity to lean in for a kiss. Keith felt his heart race in a solitary second of nerves, but it was quick to pass once he felt the touch of Lance's lips. He leaned into it in answer. Keith hadn't intentionally snuck them away for a kiss. Really, all he wanted was a hug from Lance and to share a sincere thank-you. He wanted that particular piece he missed from everyone else, that soothing calm that no one else seemed able to provide. But why deny Lance's opportunistic theft? He admitted to himself the night before that kissing Lance was a succor he wouldn't turn away.

 

The kiss broke, and Lance reached to stroke Keith's cheek much in the same way as before and Keith smiled coyly. They could stay tucked away for a few more. Keith nosed lightly at Lance, a soft blush growing on his cheeks. Lance was quick to take the hint or, perhaps, he simply couldn't help himself. Either way, there were more than 'a few’ kisses to follow.

. . . . . . . . .

 

The next day, Hunk had it in him to prepare quite the feast for everyone. He had disappeared for the better part of the day and kick anyone who dared enter out of the kitchen. He allowed a ration of snacks but even the grumbling of stomachs couldn't turn his heart for some nourishment. _'It’ll ruin your appetite’_ he said, but to the chagrin of everyone. For the sake of everyone and their personal safety from the rages of 'hangry’, the crew spent that time much to themselves - Lance wasn't entirely sure if that was the best situation for Keith; to stew in his own thoughts, but maybe he also needed some time to decompress. (Keith had actually managed to find some Zen in cleaning his Mamoran blade, the item hardly a trigger to any emotional distress. He actually enjoyed the time on his own in his room.)

 

When the dinner bell rang, none wasted a second. They all made their way to mess and were gloriously rewarded

with the most extravagant spread of food ever to be laid out on the ship. The long table barely had any room for plates to eat from between the platters of food. Hunk had truly outdone himself. It was enough to rival any feast ever held in honor of Voltron. And Hunk was beaming.

 

“I made everyone's favorite!” He motioned toward the smorgasbord. “You know, plus… one or two more things.”

 

“You've really set the bar here, Hunk.” Coran couldn't help but eye some of the familiar dishes rather threateningly. Suddenly, he found the one specific meal he was after and there was a deadly gleam in his eye.

 

“I… I started, and I couldn't stop. I still have so much more I want to try cooking.” There was clearly a spark of determination in Hunk’s eyes. “Having a universe full of so many wonderful foods, the possibilities are endless!”

Pidge was delighted to see the TohGrak Hunk promised was set nearest to her seat. Allura practically wept at the milkshakes that speckled the tiny spaces between dishes. In perfect honesty, Keith was actually most excited for a bowl of familiar green goop.

 

“Welcome back, Keith.” Hunk hugged Keith again lightly, “I hope you don't mind my way saying I’m glad to have you back. I missed ya, buddy.”

 

“Thanks, Hunk. Me too.”

 

It was no surprise that every bit of food was culinary perfection. Hunk, himself, was rather pleased to see that his intentions of using food to bring everyone together and enjoy each other's company as though nothing was amiss had come to a successful fruition. It had always been his favorite park of cooking. Keith was back, and it was like the family was whole again. There was laughter and smiles and everything that made Hunk. Plus, food. So much glorious food. (And everyone eventually thanked Hunk for keeping their stomachs empty until they could eat proper.)

 

“You really out-did yourself, Hunk.” Keith set a stack of plates into the sink.

 

“The TohGrak is beyond perfection, Hunk.” Pidge praised before shoving a spoonful in her mouth.

 

“If I didn't know any better, I would say that it was actually peanut butter.” Matt licked his own spoon clean before getting up to clean his place at the table. “GOOD peanut butter.”

 

“Thanks everyone! I'm super glad everyone enjoyed the meal!” Hunk started running water in the sink, the cleanup part of the evening getting underway. The rest of the gang had long finished and headed off to nurse their food comas.

 

Pidge picked up the bowl of TohGrak and headed for the door, obviously intending on hoarding the remains for herself. Matt followed close behind.

 

“Hey guys.” Keith spoke up before they disappeared around the corner. “Do you guys mind giving me a hand with something?”

 

“Of course not, Keith.” Pidge slapped her brother's hand away from the bowl in her arms. He flinched and tried to shake off the sting. “Happy to help.”

 

“Thanks guys.” He moved to follow them out of the kitchen. Keith hesitated a moment and looked back at Hunk. “Thanks again, Hunk. Nothing beats coming back to a good home cooked meal. It means a lot.”

 

Hunk beamed and waved them off.

 

. . . . . . .

 

The reflection of light from the room danced across the lenses as Pidge adjusted her glasses. The item seemed straight forward enough. Metal circle. Made for restraining. There were still a couple links attached to the anchor loop.

 

“When we worked on prying it open there would be symbols that flickered on and off all the way around it.” Keith explained as the Holt siblings looked it over. “Once Lance popped it off, they vanished.”

 

“What did the symbols look like?” Matt asked as he looked up at Keith from over Katie's shoulder.

 

“They didn't look familiar to me.” Keith frowned softly. “I was expecting Galra. The computer systems were Galra. But this looked nothing like it.”

 

“Hmn. Perhaps if I connected it to the console, I could see if I can stress the material enough that we get the same reaction as when you tried prying it open.” Pidge shifted in her seat, but Matt had already popped the side panel open and pulled the connections she needed for the experiment. “Excellent. Thank you, Matt.”

 

He fixed the connections to the open ends of the circle while Pidge worked at getting a current signature to flow into it. After a moment, the shackle began to pulse once more. The green symbols faded into view and Pidge and Matt both watched it as she increased the energy rate. Soon, the lights were steady.

 

“Interesting. They almost look… Olkari.” Pidge cocked her head curiously to one side. “But… _not_ at the same time.”

 

“That's because it _is_.” Matt replied, “And it isn't.”

 

“Huh.” Keith mused alongside them, “Glad that's cleared up.”

 

“It's Olkari. But it's a more archaic dialect. It's no longer a written language they use.” Matt explained.

 

“Since when were you the resident alien linguist?” Pidge looked up curiously at her elder sibling.

 

“Aah, well you know…” he shrugged sheepishly, “You pick up things here and there when you date one.”

 

“You dated an alien linguist?” Keith found himself entertained by the idea, though he found it hardly surprising.

 

“I suppose I wouldn't say _dated.”_ Matt sighed heavily, clearly affected by the memory. “There are surprisingly few drive-in movies in space.”

 

Pidge and Keith only stared. Seemed Matt wasn't going to get out of talking about it with humorous quips. He

figured as much.

 

“It was difficult a lot of the time, stuffed in a dark cell and not knowing what the next day was going to bring. You tend to get close to cellmates. Marson was always kind enough to offer me some of her food and she would always sit closest to me when things got chilly. And it was always nice to have someone to talk to. When you feel trapped and hopeless, having someone to hold really helps. Marson and I were nearly inseparable, keeping each other together physically and mentally. If it wasn't for Marson, I don't know how much I could have suffered through when they took Shiro away.

 

After we were busted out, I found out that she had been part of the rebellion. So, naturally, I joined. That's when I found out she was so learned in distant languages. Etymology was practically her hobby. For a time, we were still really close. But, after a while, we both realized that we were just coping mechanisms for each other in a dark time. We both wanted a distraction from feeling hurt and broken down; to forget where we were for a moment or two…”

 

“I had no idea, Matt.” Pidge pouted slightly, and Matt's face brightened.

 

“It's perfectly fine. Once we realized, it was mutual, and it made things easier.” He patted his sister's shoulder, “With no immediate impending doom, and other things to focus on, there was really no time to feel bad about anything.”

 

Keith considered just how much Matt was forced to deal with things on his own once he had been separated from Shiro. 'Easy' was never a word he would have used to describe anything they had all been through since leaving Earth behind, but at least they all had each other for the brunt of it.

 

“Anyway! Do observe!” Matt picked up the shackle, holding it on display for the two of them. “Hard metallic material. Decently weighted. Sleek design and well-engineered for its purpose.” He reached for the large glass of water he had brought from the kitchen and set it on the floor. He placed the shackle inside the water, both Keith and Pidge looked on, intrigued. “Keith, try and pick up the glass.”

 

Keith stepped over and reached for it. He was surprised to find, though, it wasn't impossible to pick up, it was four times as heavy as it was before.

 

“Holy crap!” Keith could only manage to lift a few inches.

 

“The symbols are the Olkari programming.” Matt explained, “This one in particular is weight variable in particular environmental conditions.”

 

“Fascinating.” Pidge made a mild attempt at the glass as well out of curiosity, “Olkari tech is amazing. Even their obsolete gear.”

 

“Well, that certainly explains a lot.” Keith folded his arms thoughtfully, realizing why, even underwater, the restraints were so difficult to move. “What it doesn't explain, though, is why Vartex has Olkari _and_ Galra tech. Both of which are so outdated…”

 

. . . . . . . .

 

There was a familiar rumbling in the distance. The storm clouds rolled in much quicker than last time. It was like a living, breathing entity. Once the storm engulfed him again, he felt heavy and burdened. It was difficult to move anything; arms, legs, head. Even though he still didn’t seem to be physically present, he could feel the electricity of the storm prickling on his skin. The lights began to flash around him and the rumbling began to mount. The sounds began to thump at his chest and he could feel his heart race. If the thunder hadn’t been mounting, he swore he would have been deafened by the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

 

Someone was out there in that haze that swallowed him. He could feel them. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout and yell. “What do you want? Who are you? Why are you after me? What do you want with Keith?” He knew they were looking for him too. He could feel it swirling around him. He wanted to demand answers, but nothing left his throat. Not a sound. He was drowning in the smoggy cloud, flashes of lighting disorienting his sense of direction and the rumbling of thunder made it difficult to breathe. Suddenly a loud clap of thunder punched against his chest and the dark grey mist shot at him in a malicious spire. A hand formed and clutched him around the throat.

 

Lance shot up in a cold sweat, much in the same manner as the first time he was haunted by that dream. He could feel his heart racing and his breathing was ragged. Looking around him, he calmed slightly, realizing he was in the safety of his own room in the Castle of Lions. He pulled the covers and shifted his feet over the side of the bed, his face falling into his hands. He wasn’t going to be sleeping much more the rest of the night. McClain sighed heavily and wiped the sweat from his brow before deciding to grab his robe and get a drink of water. He wondered how much sleep he was going to get in nights to come. If this storm was going to be there every time he closed his eyes, he guessed it wasn’t going to be a lot.

 

. . . . . . .

 

The water felt good as he felt it slip down his throat and he pressed the cool glass against his forehead for a bit. After a moment of peace in the kitchen, Lance decided to at least give it one more try. Hopefully the nightmare was passed, and he would be able to get some rest. He wasn’t all that confident it was going to happen, but he had little else he could do. Lance made his way down the halls from the kitchen back toward his room. On the way, he passed by the control room and noticed that the navigation system was up, bathing the room in deep red light. Curious, Lance stepped in to see what was displayed.

 

 _Vartex_ was displayed on the screen next to the giant orb that turned delicately on its axis.

 

Lance sighed heavily to himself and shook his head. It seemed he wasn’t the only one taking in little sleep that night. He wasn’t all that surprised. If anything, it was one of the qualities he admired in Keith. The determination to see things through was never a bad quality; a little frustrating a times, but never bad.

 

“Find anything new?” Lance asked softly as he stepped up next to the chair Keith sat in, leaned forward with elbows resting on his knees as he folded his hands in front of him, his chin resting on his thumbs as he peered staunchly at the displays.

 

“Just more questions.” Keith answered in a defeated tone. He didn’t even flinch. Lance studied him carefully, watching his eyes roam the screen for something he might have missed, his brows furrowed tightly in frustration. He looked tired, be Lance knew he would wave off any suggestion of sleep. He blinked curiously when Keith looked up at him after a moment, not expecting to meet his gaze. “What are you doing up so late?”

 

“Ah, just…” Lance shrugged, “Trouble sleeping.”

“Same dream?” Keith moved to sit up straight and turned his attention to McClain completely.

“It’s not a big deal.” Lance waved off the concern, “It just catches me off guard and jerks me awake.”

 

Keith’s eyes softened, innately knowing that Lance wasn’t giving him the full story, but he thought better than to press. Lance couldn’t help but smile softly. Keith was anything but difficult to read at times. When Keith didn’t get anything else out of McClain he groaned.

 

“I don’t know what else to do.” He rubbed his eyes as he thought out loud, “I don’t have any other leads to follow and I only end up with more confusion the more I try to look. I’ve paged through almost half of the files I downloaded and it’s like Kolivan said; it’s all useless. I have _nothing_ , but I know there’s _something_ there! I… I can’t explain it. But… I can’t leave it alone. It feels wrong to ignore.” Keith leaned back and slouched deeply into the chair.

 

Lance could understand the frustration. He was starting to feel the same way about the images that haunted him in his sleep. “I think you need a break.” Lance held out his hand to Keith, “I think we could both use something to take our minds off our troubles.”

 

Keith looked at Lance and to his hand. He didn’t want to walk away from Vartex. It was a personal vendetta at this point, and that only pushed Keith to want to break the mystery further. But maybe McClain was right. He was at a stalemate at the moment and staring at a screen for hours obviously wasn’t getting him any closer to an answer. Keith sighed and shut down the computer before taking Lance’s hand. McClain smiled again and helped Keith to his feet before leading him out of Control.

 

Keith wasn’t stupid and knew, more or less, what Lance had alluded to. Suffice it to say that he wasn’t all that surprised when Lance led the back to his room. He had to be honest with himself and admit that when he fell asleep in Lance’s arms at the Blade of Marmora it was one of the few nights he actually slept rather well. It had been some time since he was able to say that he woke up feeling as well-rested as he did that morning. He wouldn’t protest another chance to get the sleep he was clearly depriving himself of that night. He sat on the edge of Lance’s bed and kicked his shoes off as Lance discreetly locked the door.

 

McClain made his way to Keith’s side and urged him back onto his feet. Keith complyed and eagerly accepted the kisses Lance pulled him into. They were soft and light and Keith started to want more. He moved to press stronger kisses against Lance’s lips and was relieved when Lance answered them in the same way. But it was only a few before Lance pulled back.

 

“Forget the universe.” Lance spoke softly, his ocean blue eyes brilliant in the darkness of the room. “Tonight, there is no Vartex. There is no Galran Empire. There is no Voltron. Tonight, there’s only me, you, and the stars.”

Lance reached to the panel over his bed and a strip of the solid wall against it shifted into a clear window to the starscape on the other side. Flecks of starlight glittered the blanketing void, decorating the empty space that wasn’t occupied by the glow of a large galaxy in the distance.

 

 _You, me, and the stars…_ Keith repeated in his head as he looked out to the distance. What would life be like if they didn’t have everything to deal with; if the universe was saved from the impending tyranny of Zarkon? What would it be like if they managed to stop the Empire? Would Keith be on his own again? He felt Lance slip his hands over his waist. No. He had friends. He had family. Right now, he had Lance. _And the stars…_

 

Lance pulled him close again, his lips leading the move. Keith answered, and his arms slipped around Lance’s shoulders. He couldn’t help himself. When Keith looked at him with those softened features of concern over his bad dream, he wanted to kiss him then and there. He wanted more than that. He hoped that Keith did too. Lance was daring enough to try and find out. Kisses were light and thoughtful, as were Lance’s hands as he pulled gently at Keith’s shirt, freeing it from the grip of his belt. His fingers traced the edge of Keith’s pants before they slid up his stomach and chest, feeling firm muscle and defined lines hidden beneath fabric. Lance’s kisses became slightly hungrier after that. Keith noticed, but answered him still. It wasn’t until Lance worked at Keith’s belt he pulled back.

 

“Lance…” he huffed softly.

 

“We can stop.” Lance pulled his hands away and took half a step back, the belt only half undone.

 

Keith was nervous. He couldn’t recall ever feeling that way before. And over such a thing as getting undressed. He looked up at Lance and studied his gentle expression; the soft look in his eyes that seemed to burn just as bright as the stars. They eased a knot or two in his stomach. Being with Lance these passed few days were nothing but calming and McClain never made him feel anything less than safe, wanted, and supported. Keith could say with confidence that he trusted him completely. What was there to be nervous about? He took in a soft breath, bolstering his found bit of resolve and reached for the tie around Lance’s robe.

 

The corner of Lance’s lips curled as his robe fell open and he moved to slip it off his shoulders. As he did, Keith pulled off his own shirt, both discarding their articles on the floor. Keith worked at losing his gloves, tugging the material free of each finger and pulling off the first glove. As he pulled at the second, Lance reached for the covered hand and slowly pulled the glove off with his teeth, his eyes locked on Keith’s during the whole process. Keith froze, feeling things stir in him he never imagined ever would. The hand was bandaged; the same hand that Lance had brought to his lips before. As he repeated the move, he earned the same flush on Keith’s cheeks and he smiled. Lance hooked his other arm around Keith’s waist and pulled him in close, his lips seeking out Keith’s own. Lance didn’t bother to hush a soft hum that slipped passed his lips while he felt Keith’s hands slip over his shoulders and fingers into his hair.

 

Keith couldn’t help but take particular note of how Lance felt, skin against skin. He was warm. And soft. And Keith could smell the light fragrance of the man’s cologne much easier without the net of fabric holding it back. His hair was like the plume of feathers, or velvet, or silk. He liked the way it felt between his fingers. Everywhere he could feel Lance’s bare body against his own exposed skin burned. He liked it. Everywhere Lance’s hands caressed tingled. He liked that too. Every kiss between them was sweet and addictive. He liked those best. There was a slow lingering kiss between them before Lance broke away. He urged Keith to the bed and he complied with silent, subtle insecurity that still lingered in the back of his mind. As Keith laid back on the bed, Lance moved over him and greeted him with a kiss. Or several. Each finding a spot on Keith’s flesh lower than the one before.

 

Lance could tell Keith was out of his comfort zone. The man trembled just slightly beneath him and his breaths were arrhythmic. But, if he were honest, Lance kind of enjoyed the way Keith’s chest rose and fell with his nervous breaths. It dipped dramatically each exhale and rose slowly with every cautious inhale. Finally his lips reached Keith’s neck and he let them play lightly at the shifting of Keith’s throat after a thick swallow. Finally, after a teasing brush, his lips locked onto Keith’s throat while Lance debated whether or not he wanted to leave Keith marked. His subject in question made a vocal breath and Lance felt his arms tighten around his shoulders. He would leave him immaculate for now and he dragged his tongue back up the curve of his neck and along the line of his jaw.

 

“Lance…” Keith heaved softly.

 

It was McClain’s turn to take a heavy swallow at the call of his name from that visage of Keith he couldn’t drink enough of. The look Keith gave him in the control room was enough to make him want this. The way he was now drove him crazy. Lance could feel a shiver crawl down his spine when he heard Keith moan against a kiss as he set the weight of his body on him and rolled his hips against Keith's own. He felt Keith's hands slide around his arms and up his back before they clutched at his shoulders. He loved every but of it. He rolled his hips again and again, relishing every sound it forced from Keith's lips.

 

Keith pulled in a breath to speak, but only succeeded in allowing Lance entry with his tongue. He tensed at the sensation, not knowing what to do with it. But Lance was a strong lead. It didn't take too long for him to figure out the motions. Keith's heart raced as fast as his head, both trying to make heads or tails of the feelings building everywhere else. He couldn't deny the want for Lance to keep doing what he was doing, and it was getting stronger. Maybe 'stronger’ wasn't the right word.

 

A hand of his slid down Lance's side and his hips subconsciously raised against McClain's movements. Soon as it did, Lance stopped and sat up leaving Keith in a surprised daze. His hands went straight for the half-undone belt and aimed to finish the job. Keith looked up at him from the bed in a heavy blush, watching this half-naked man between his legs. He was nervous, embarrassed, anxious, and excited all at the same time. Keith was no stranger to myriad emotions and internal conflict, but he never felt this way before and it made him want to shrink away and hide from Lance entirely. But the way his body craved more of this new attention kept him from doing so.

 

Lance moved over him again and, suddenly, Keith felt a warm and gentle touch where he never had before - that wasn't his own, at least. He felt so sheepish watching him so intently, so closely - close physically as well - while he caressed him so intimately. Keith's mouth gaped slightly as he held back a moan. He couldn't do it. He clutched at the sheets at his side to steel himself, but he couldn't do it. He shut his eyes and turned his head away. He was too timid to look Lance in the eye as it all transpired.

 

Lance couldn't get enough of him. He didn't know he could feel so much for Keith so quickly, but he was consumed. With the responses he was getting, he only wanted to have more. In the back of his mind, Lance knew Keith was in a fragile state and didn't want to cause any more undue stress on the poor man. But this was one of the definitions of 'stress relief', right? He couldn't look at him, but he didn't push him away. Lance's own excitement was building so much that he had to loose the tie around his own hips. _God, he’s beautiful._ As Keith turned away Lance glanced down the length of him and could see every twisting muscle, every undulating breath. His finger wrapped around the muscle in his palm and hit a spot that Keith arched to with a hushed groan. He wanted him. Lance wanted him in a terrible way. He dragged his hand up again and Keith's spine curved in response again, this time he'd failed to quiet himself. Lance exposed Keith completely and himself after that. He took them each in hand, clasping them against one another, gently but firm.

 

Keith's eyes opened at the sudden warmth against his bare flesh. He could feel the hot excitement pulsing from Lance - against his own. His cheeks flushed even further and Keith almost began to feel dizzy. He still couldn't face the man. Not completely. His gaze wandered to the corner of his eye, watching Lance with a sidelong look. He had closed his eyes too, clearly focused on working between them and how it made him feel. His lips were slightly agape as his grimaced in controlled ecstasy; small groans and murmurs spilling from them now and again. Keith wanted to shudder at the sensations of Lance's lengthy movements and the friction building as he held them together tightly. It felt insanely good and every now and then Lance would graze that spot that made him buck just a little. But, now that he saw Lance in that raw passionate light, the amorous expressions of his delicate face, he couldn't _stop_ watching him. He was always the better looking one of the group and even in such a carnal state he was still gorgeous.

 

"Wait..." Keith managed to whisper somewhat coarsely.

 

Lance halted immediately. His eyes opened and he looked down at Keith with more worry than surprise. The expression was washed in such concern over having done something wrong that it clutched at Keith through his chest. He had turned his head to Lance by then, watching him as he pleasured Keith and himself.

 

"Like this..." Keith reached between them, positioning their heat in a way that would strike him right with each roll of Lance's hips.

 

Lance had followed his movement and watched as he adjusted before looking back at Keith with such a fire in his soul, Keith couldn't help but let himself smile softly. Lance slipped his hand over Keith's, both of them wrapped around themselves and each other as he resumed his pace. Fuck, did it feel good. Hushed sensual sounds broke between them occasionally as both men could feel what built inside them rise to a climax. When Keith whispered "slower" Lance had to clench his jaw and fight every fiber within him that wanted to go faster and harder. But he managed to reel back to slow, long drags and, God-fucking-bless Keith, it was worth it. Not just for Lance, either. When he slowed, he was able to press heavier and move further along their length. As he did, Keith's head rolled back with his shoulders in a breath that hitched in his throat as he broke. He tensed a small handful of times in his release, amongst them, Lance found his own peak.

 

Both stilled for a long moment, catching their breaths and allowing their bodies to ease all of the tension. Keith had to smile a little watching Lance reach for facial cleansers to clean the mess between them. As he finished, Keith sat up and reached for Lance, taking him by either side of his face and pulling him down with him for the slowest, most sensual kiss they shared. Lance stared at him, wide-eyed and flushed. Keith wasn't entirely sure what he was thinking until he laid beside him and pulled him in for several more.

 

The stars could have all died out the in a single dramatically choreographed show of galactic implosions and explosions just then; a grand show of the End of All Things. Keith never would have noticed. There was only Lance. Lance and the way he touched him. Lance and the way he kissed him. Lance and the way he held him. Lance and the way he seemed to make every trouble in the universe fall away and dissipate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer*  
> I have no idea what Matt Holt's middle name is, but I would bet you a shiny space nickel it's either that or Archimedes. Because NERD.
> 
>  
> 
> Alright. I apologise, as always for the wait. But thank you to those that do stick around. I also apologise for any poor formatting and grammar, et. Al. The mass majority of this was typed on my phone. 
> 
> If you see anything that might need an edit, feel free to let me know and I will clean it up next chance I get. 
> 
> Cheers! And thanks for the read!!
> 
>   * [Tumblr](https://crystalsilhouette.tumblr.com/)
>   * [FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/73584/)
> 



	5. Fire

** Fire **

 

It was always fairly routine for Lance to wake with a grand gesture; arms and legs reaching out as far as his limbs would allow with a grand lion’s roar of a yawn. He would sit up and do a few twists at the waist, side stretches, ankle rolls – you know, get some good ol’ blood flow going before starting his Classic McClain Morning Regimen to walk out with that perfectly cultivated handsome morning glow. But not this morning.

This morning was a hushed, slow, extended breath. This morning was a hesitant flutter of eyelids before any other muscle stirred; staring at the ceiling overhead and simply feeling the weight against him, the warmth on his skin, the soft breath spilling over his chest. Lance wanted to really carve into his being the feeling of waking up and having Keith beside him, comfortable, peaceful, dare he even consider ‘content’. Finally, Lance moved. He reached a hand over his chest and brushed the dark strands of hair that curtained over Keith’s face back. He wanted to see how calm he was as he slept. He wanted to see what it was like to have Keith next to him without the lines of worry or confusion over his features, or the creases of anger and irritation distorting them. As he did, Keith shifted at the touch. The arm he had draped over McClain’s stomach slid up to Lance’s chest and Keith nuzzled into his shoulder with a breathy sigh. Lance felt his heart race for a moment and a smile pulled at his lips. He could get used to this.

After a few cherished moments more, Lance slithered out from underneath Keith and mentally patted himself on the back for doing so without more of a stir than the first. A quick shower and change and he was well on his way to find some breakfast. Lance noticed how light he felt inside. There was more of a McClain pep in his step than usual and the kitchen suddenly seemed only half the distance it normally was from his room.

“Mornin’ Hunk!” Lance chirped as he slipped behind the island counter and beelined it to the refrigerating unit. There was definitely enough to peruse through after the grand feast Hunk had for them. The question was, what did he want?

“Good morning, Lance.” Hunk answered as he got up and wandered to the sink to stash an emptied bowl.

 _Actually, cereal does sound good._ Lance smirked as he grabbed a jug of relatively fresh Kaltenecker milk. “Where is everyone?” He ask as he made for a bowl of his own and a box of grains.

“Come and gone.” Hunk answered as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. “It’s practically half passed 11, bro. It’s nearly lunch by now.”

“Ah.” Lance said before shoving a spoonful of ‘brunch’ in his mouth. He mimicked Hunk and leaned back against the counter next to him, shoveling food in his mouth. “So what’s up, man?”

Hunk kept quiet a moment, watching Lance eat with suspiciously lidded eyes. He took in a thoughtful breath as he reached for his chin. “Sooo…” Lance chomped another spoonful. “You and Keith, huh?”

Choke. Sputter. Cough. Hack. He nearly dropped the bowl entirely.

“W-what?” Lance froze a moment. He attempted a few sidelong glances at Hunk, but he saw nothing that gave him any read to the situation enough to know how to handle it. He opted for innocent ignorance, “What the heck are you talking about? Who the hell started _that_ rumor?” He would try playing it off casually. He cleared his throat and shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.

Hunk wasn’t buying it. His answer was flat and deadpan. “I saw you in the hall the other day.”

Lance spit milk and cereal out over the spoon in his mouth in a glorious spray of half chewed cornmeal bits. Busted. He looked over at Hunk and there was a raised brow that solidified the ‘I dare you to talk yourself out of this one’ look on his best friend’s face. Hunk knew it for a fact. Lance was defeated before he could even try. He set the bowl down on the counter behind him and crossed his own arms as he leaned back again with a soft smirk.

“You saw us, huh?” he wiped what was left of his outburst from his face with the back of his hand.

“Yeah…” Hunk answered, this time a little sheepish. “I turned a corner and saw you run into each other. But the look on Keith’s face kind of had me concerned. So when he led you down the way, I thought I would go with – you know, just to see if it was anything I could help with.” Hunk’s eyes wandered away from Lance’s face, a timid pink hue crawling over his cheekbones, “By the time I caught up with you guys you were… Busy.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile to himself. It would be the way he was found out – not that it was entirely any sort of secret they were trying to keep locked away. More of a pin to be dealt with at another point in time. But, he was actually rather relieved it was Hunk, of all people. There was a seed developing in Lance that he felt the need to divulge to someone and there was no better man than Hunk. It was a golden opportunity laying itself at Lance’s feet.

“I…” Lance still wasn’t sure just how deep rooted this whole development was, but he couldn’t shake it. Maybe talking about it would help him figure it out. “I think I love him, Hunk.”

Hunk’s eyes went wide and he leaned in closer to McClain, looking him over fully before letting a grin cut across his face. “That’s great, Lance! I’m stoked for you both!”

“Thanks…” Lance smiled meekly.

“Why…” Hunk’s excitement shifted to ‘quizzical concern’, “Do you not seem happy about this?”

“Because.” Lance barely had time to process what twisted inside him like some kind of overly-complicated Rubik’s cube and tickled like butterflies in his stomach each time it turned, let alone figure out how to put everything into words so that he could explain to someone else. He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned while trying to find English. “I… He…”  Hunk waited, patient and understanding, as only Hunk knew how to do.  “Keith needs this. He needs physical proof that someone is on his side. Support. Understanding. Just someone to bat with him. It’s not hard to see any of that. Hunk, he was a fucking mess at Marmora! You know he doesn’t like to let on, but when his cup started to spill – Bro, _deluge!_ ”

“Aw, man…” Hunk’s shoulders slumped heavy at the recount. It burdened his heart to know that Keith even reached such a point. He was even more distraught over the fact that he would have had to deal with it all on his own, without his team, if Lance hadn’t have been there for him, “Poor Keith.”

“At the time…” Lance rubbed the back of his head lightly, merely fidgeting as he felt a small wash of bashfulness rise in his confession, “At the time, I knew that was something I could give him. It was something I _wanted_ to give him.” Lance quieted for a moment, remembering the way Keith looked the moment that first tear fell. He remembered the way Keith’s gasping sobs filled the shell of his ear. Mostly, he remembered how tightly Keith clung to him. He remembered how Keith’s arms had snaked around him completely, grasping so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe. “It… helped. So, I didn’t want to stop. But… The more time I spent with him, the more I started to realize how _I_ felt. I wanted to be there. I wanted to be _with him_. I want to see him smile. I want to see him _happy._ ” He wanted to see other things too, his memory paging through events and scenes of the evening prior. But that probably wasn’t something he needed to share with Hunk. Not right now. (If ever.)

“I still don’t think I see how this is a problem.” Hunk pried him back from his reveries with the quandary.

“It’s just going to make things worse for him.” Hunk could see the brightness in the blue of Lance’s eyes dim with the gravity of his concern, “Keith is still in the middle of a break down. He can’t drop what’s going on with Vartex; it’s all he can focus on. Throw in my feelings on top of all this new intimacy that he’s only _starting_ to get used to – how much do you want to bet that it’s complete and utter shut down?!” Lance realized just how inadvertently animated he had gotten at the last bit, his voice carrying a bit more volume and an arm waving sternly at Hunk to make his point. Nevermind the surprised look on Hunk’s face. “… Sorry.”

. . . . . . . . .

 

Keith rolled off his back and onto his side, lazy and beyond sluggish. His arm reached out and felt nothing but the whisper of empty sheets next to him. A steel grey eye cracked open just slightly to make sure what he searched for wasn’t just an extra stretch away. When he found himself alone, it drifted shut again and he sighed. Or perhaps it was more of a yawn. Whatever it was, it woke him enough to turn further into the pillow, burying his face and breathing in the scent that lingered there. Keith reached for the pillow and hugged it close as he breathed again, letting the lingering lethargy win for a few more minutes.

As he lazed, Keith allowed his mind to relive the intimacy he shared with his bedmate. He never thought he could experience something so mind blowing. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the practice of pleasuring himself, but to have someone else as part of the equation, to not have the control. It was frightening, exciting, overwhelming, and undeniably amazing. It wasn’t even just simply getting off. Everything about sharing that evening with Lance was profoundly engraved into Keith’s every fiber. There was a change in Lance that night. Keith could feel that change in every kiss, in every touch McClain left on his skin.

There was a change in Keith.

He was never someone that allowed himself to crave for attention. He got by so well for so long on his own. He didn't need it. Keith was naturally empathetic, but Shiro helped him learn how to cultivate that trait and how to use it. But empathy wasn't ‘want’. It wasn't ‘need’. It wasn't _desire_. Lance woke all of these things in him. And he did it with a bang. Even now, waking up, he felt an uncharacteristic loneliness without Lance next to him. But, oddly, he was alright with it. Keith felt rather accepting of the changes within him. It turned out, Keith liked these new feelings. He liked not having to bury anything deep inside when he was with McClain. He liked… being free.

The thoughts of Lance began to carve a smile into his lips.

Before too long, Keith decided he was awake enough to venture out of bed and start the day. He sat up and stretched his arms out, hearing a pop or two down his spine and finding it a nice feeling. He stood, still half dressed in undone pants and belt. He turned, grabbing the blankets. Did Lance make his bed? Keith made his bed. He would make McClain’s. Once he had done that, it was on the way for a shower, drying, and dressing. The best part after that, food.

As he made his way to mess, Keith began to catalogue the food Hunk made that he didn’t get a chance to try. He remembered a couple dishes he had his eye on, but not the stomach for at the time. Those would be a good start for a hardy breakfast, and with that, maybe he could get a better, fresher approach on what he had to do next in regard to his Vartex problem. As he approached the door to the kitchen, he heard voices. He noticed how his heart beat just a little faster when he recognized Lance’s.

“Well… Are you going to tell him?” Neither noticed Keith as he turned into the doorway, both having their heart-to-heart with their backs to his direction.

“No.” Lance answered the proposed question, “At least… Not right now.”

“But Lance, your feelings are just as important as Keith’s.” Hunk had reached for his shoulder, Keith could clearly see it was in consolation. “You have to talk to him.”

“I will. But…” Lance’s shoulders slumped a little with a shake of his head, “I know right now, he needs support. Maybe after everything, I can talk to him about wanting to move on.”

Keith froze.

_Move on?_

Lance wanted to move on? Keith felt a shock go through him and nerves in his chest fired like wild sparks of electricity, one after another with each heartbeat. Why did he want to move on? Did he do something? Say something wrong? He felt as though the wind was knocked out of him. Did it have to do with what happened _last night?_ Everything seemed fine until then. But how could it have been wrong when Keith thought that it felt so right? Keith’s mind screamed though all the questions, scenarios, possibilities. His eyes fixed on Lance’s back, clutching at him, trying to reach out to him the way his heart wanted to, the way Keith wouldn’t physically allow himself to. Suddenly he could hear Matt’s voice ring in his ears.

_“…We were just coping mechanisms for each other…”_

Is that what Lance thought?

_“He needs support.”_

That he needed a coping mechanism? Sure, he had a hard few days. A lot had happened.  Some could even use the word ‘traumatic’ to describe the near-death experience but come on. Did he really need something to cope? Did he really think that Lance was the way to –

_“We both wanted a distraction from feeling hurt and broken down; to forget where we were for a moment or two…”_

Keith remembered just how much of himself Lance had taken up last night. ‘Forget the universe’, he said. Only them and the stars, he said. And it was. For one glorious night, everything fell away. Keith had nothing but Lance in his universe. No star burned hotter than Keith did then. And he didn’t burn for anything or anyone other than Lance McClain. He supposed, by the definition he knew, it worked. Lance had done exactly as he intended. Keith was relieved of any hurt, or anger, or concern he had. He woke up feeling close to the same, if not with a better vigor about things than he had previous. Lance had done the job he intended.

The trouble was, Keith found it a superficial fix. If this was what it summed up to, he didn’t want it. Keith had no use for a band aid. Sure as hell not one like _this_.

“Alright.”

Both Hunk and Lance turned to the door at the stern voice.

“I demand more TohGrak!” Pidge stood tall and very stern looking, hands on her hips and chest puffed as she supplied her ultimatum. “Hunk, you have to make more. Twice as much, to be exact – and don’t tell Matt about it!”

Keith had been long gone.

. . . . . .

 

It was supposed to do him good. It was about time he got out and got some fresh air. He had been cooped up on ships and secret bases for too long. Especially after all the hardship he had been through lately. It was good to be with the team again. Doing team Voltron related things. He needed sun and socialization.

Socialization? Did they forget about whom it was they were talking? Keith was one of the last people on the list in need of socializing. Maybe even sunlight too. Though, Keith had to admit, keeping busy with supplying refugees rations and sundries. Keeping tabs on inventories and distribution tallies kept his mind from wandering to other things. Busy work was good work. It was actually really nice to be able to just fall back into line like he never left. Allura, Coran, and Shiro kept up with the politics – even though Keith would have been more than welcome to possibly add anything he could have felt to be amiss, he didn’t feel he had the right to speak for the Blade of Marmora. No. Not this time. This time he was just Keith.

He was also graciously thankful that Lance had gone off with Hunk to make some deliveries to the Rebellion compound stores on that particular planet. Matt had gone with as well to act as their official liaison. Keith managed to avoid McClain for most of the day thanks to Shiro. He could always count him Shiro to be Shiro. The split second he heard that they were making for Baylex-4 to help out, he offered to lend a hand with preparations.  Shiro kept him busy the entire time. There wasn’t ever a moment Lance could get Keith alone and any time he made an attempt – and there were several - Keith shut him down with a legitimate excuse. Though, he never managed to say it fast enough. Each time Lance got close, his heart constricted, and his chest ached. All Keith could hear was Lance saying the words ‘ _move on._ ’

“This whole pallet is checked and all set to go to the east square.” Pidge announced as she poked at her holotab. “After this one, I think there’s two more.”

“One more.” Keith corrected as he wiped his brow of sweat with the back of his hand. “I’ve just finished repacking the second pallet.”

“Excellent.” Pidge smiled as she updated the ledger. “You know…”

Keith set the box in his hands down atop the rest of the pile he had just completed. He adjusted a gloved hand and turned to look over at the girl as she moved to his side.

“It’s really great having you back, Keith.” Pidge gave him a sincerely kind smile. “The castle feels whole again. I missed working with you.”

Keith returned the expression in kind and gathered Pidge in his arms for a tight squeeze. It did, actually, mean quite a lot to Keith to hear that. It had been a turbulent time before, wondering exactly where his place was in his vast – and growing – universe. It was nice to know that he was missed somewhere. Their embraced ended and it was back to work. That was one of the best things about Pidge, Keith thought. She was never afraid to let you know how she felt but never really made a production out of it. Cut and dry. To the point. He felt his heart lift and that was enough to carry him through the rest of that day. At least, it would have been.

“How’s it going, guys?” Hunk called at the pair of them from the other large open dock doors as he and Lance strode into the shade from the sunlight.

“Hey Hunk, Lance! How was the delivery?” Pidge asked, dusting off the front of her green and white shirt after kicking up a small cloud of dirt from dropping a box onto a stack.

“It went really well.” Lance moved to stand beside Keith and the stoic young man could feel his heart race and thud in his ears. “The faction leader said that we showed up just in the nick of time.”

“They were started to worry about how to take on the sudden volume of refugees that have been showing up with the meager stores that they had.” Hunk added. “But they should be able to keep everyone supplied with what they need for a while now.”

“That’s great!” Pidge beamed. After a moment, she pulled the frames off her nose and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “I don’t know about you boys, but I think this is an excellent time for a break.”

“Agreed!” Hunk waved them along back toward the door, “I’m pretty sure Matt said he was going to try and find some food. It’s nearly lunchtime anyway. I bet if we track him down we’ll be able to munch sooner!”

“You guys go one ahead.” Lance called after them, discreetly slipping his fingers around Keith’s hand, “We’ll catch up with you in a bit!”

 _Shit._ Keith could feel his heart start to race. He could feel it beating against the inside of his rib cage, fighting to escape and run away from Lance like he wanted to. Lance reached for Keith’s hand and tugged him toward the opposite direction that Hunk and Pidge had gone. Keith tensed, and his nerves prickled.

“Come on!” Lance sang, clearly excited over something, “I want to show you something!”

“L-Lance!” Keith racked his through his mind, searching for one more good excuse to break away from McClain, “I-… Shiro might be-“  
  
“Nope!” Lance cut him off, looking back at him over his shoulder with a toothy grin as he dragged him around cobbled streets and winding roads, “Not this time, Pal-adin! You’ve had plenty of work and duties for now. You’re all mine and I’m not going to take any excuses.”

Before Keith could decide how to handle talking his way out of spending another moment more with Lance, he yanked his wrist playfully.

“Come on! It’s just around the corner and out the gate!” Lance started them into a slow jog toward the archway that broke the wall around the town they wandered. Keith couldn’t do anything other than take a deep breath quietly to himself and just steel himself for the time being. He followed Lance’s lead.

As they rounded the corner and stepped out of the town, Lance and Keith were greeted by a cliff edge thirty paces out. But the cliff overlooked a breath-taking view of a waterfall oasis that completely contrasted the surrounding plains Keith had figured was par for the course on such a conventional seeming planet. Lance walked them nearer to the edge of the precipice and Keith began to take in the vibrant hues of the green foliage, the glittering colors of the floral blooms that cut through the brush and canopy. He could smell the crispness of the water in the air. He could feel the cool spray reaching up at them from below. It was a sanctuary in its own right. Keith could feel nothing about this was handmade, it was natural. Somehow in the middle of what was essentially nothing, this spring blossomed by it’s own sheer will. And it thrived. And it was beautiful.

Lance looked over to him with a kind smile and Keith felt him squeeze his hand. His heart leapt knowing that Lance had been so eager to share this ‘little secret’ with him. Or, it would have. If the feelings Lance portrayed had been real. His heart would have certainly leapt, right off the edge. Lance leaned in and nosed softly against his ear and temple. He could hear him breath in deeply and sigh softly, his breath lightly brushing against his skin. He felt his heart dive into the pit of his stomach and he felt ill. Why would he bother with all this trouble if he was just appeasing him? Why bury Keith in such a deep hole only to leave him in it on his own later? He didn’t like it. He didn’t want it. If Lance was going to keep this course, Keith wanted off this ride.

“I’ve missed you.” Lance’s voice was enough to make him crack under his own pressure.

“Lance, I’m done.” Keith pulled his hand away and turned to walk back into town.

“What?” Lance was dumbfounded. “What does that mean?”

“This.” Keith stopped and gestured between the two of them, “This is over. I’m done with it.”

Lance shook his head as he turned to face Keith, “Wait, I’m sorry… What? _It?_ ”

“Yes.” Keith folded his arms across his chest in finality.

“What do you mean you’re _done?_ ” Lance asked again, this time his eyes closed, and he reached to rub his furrowed brow in some attempt to smooth the kinks in his thought process.

“I mean _we’re done_.” Keith shook his head, how difficult was this? Don’t act like you’re so damn confused by what you want in the first place. “Whatever you think we have going on – I don’t need it.”

“What the fu- What **I** think we have going on?” There was clearly agitation rising in his tone as Lance was truly starting to hammer down what Keith was getting at, “What _I_ think we have going on? Hold on, where the fuck is this coming from?”

“What does it matter, Lance?” Keith opened his arms in question, “I don’t need you to coddle me anymore. I’m perfectly fine on my own. Thanks for thinking of me and helping me out, but I’m good now.”

Lance straightened at Keith’s words. There was a nerve struck, clearly, and it caused Lance to raise every defense he had within him. He stepped up to Keith calmly and looked at the man dead in the eye. “Watch what the hell you’re saying, Keith. You’re making it sound an awful lot like I’m just a tool to help you work through some things. You’re also making it sound like I’m a tool you just want to toss back into the box now that you’re done with it.”

 _You didn’t have to be_. If only Keith could have said it out loud. If only he could have said everything out loud. How much it hurt him to say these things. How much he wished he could have hidden his face in Lance’s chest instead of slide behind his pride. How much he wished that what they had could have lasted longer than the universe itself. How safe he felt. How wanted he thought he was. How much he wanted to keep it all. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. And now, Lance would never know.

Keith stood straight himself as Lance moved in front of him. His chest puffed out slightly in the stand-off, arms at his sides, mirroring McClain. “Sounds like I don’t have to explain it anymore.”

Lance stood quiet for a second and Keith could see the muscles of his jaw working as his teeth clenched. Slowly, the bridge of his nose scrunched as his face shifted into clear rage. Keith waited. He waited for whatever was going to spill from Lance’s mouth; some ridiculous tirade about trying to help a friend out and making him come out as the victim. Fine. If that’s how Lance wanted it to play out, Keith was fine with that. As long as he no longer had to suffer through anymore false pretenses between them. As long as Keith was the one walking away before Lance could decided when it was time for him to do so. That was fine.

Lance inhaled sharply, and Keith cocked his head surely, ready to hear it. But he didn’t yell. He didn’t scream, he didn’t even say a single word. Before he could even process the whole thing as an _option_ for Lance to take, Keith felt knuckles connect to his jaw and he suddenly hit the dirt. His elbow throbbed from landing on it, same with the side of his leg after landing on a rock, but neither of them ached as bad as his jaw. When was Lance able to land such serious right hook? Keith reached for the sore side of his face as he wondered that, looking up at Lance. His face was still twisted and upset. But he never said anything. He only walked away, heading back into town and sparing no look back toward Keith.

Keith watched him go with just as many words. He sat up, relieved but also broken. He wanted to break down. He wanted to let go of all the frustration inside him. He wanted… He wanted Lance. He shut his eyes tightly and heaved a slow, shaky breath. This was going to be difficult. He already missed the emotional pillar that McClain had been for him. He missed his encouragement. His missed his embrace. This was going to be incredibly difficult.

Slowly Keith picked himself up off the ground and started to brush off the dirt from his sleeves and legs as best he could. His eyes fell over the waterfall once more, finding his heart ached for it to be the moment Lance had planned it to be, even if it might have been just a bit of wool for his eyes.

“H-Hey! Get the fuck off me!” Keith heard Lance’s voice echo off the walls inside the town. “Let me go!”

The last thing Keith knew Lance would do in a tantrum was screw around like that. There was definitely something wrong. Keith turned fast on the balls of his feet and sprinted back toward town. He crossed the gate and once he rounded the corner he found Lance. The paladin was in a mess of three large cloaked figures, two of whom had Lance on either arm, keeping an easy grip through his struggles.

“Who the hell are you guys?!” Lance demanded.

“Lance!” Keith broke into another dash.

“Kei-“ Before he could finish there was a fist in his gut so quick and hard it knocked the air right out of him and he faded not long after.

“LANCE!” Keith pulled the Mamoran blade from his hip and held it steadfast as he prepared a hard swing into the back of the one that had just knocked McClain out. The figure turned to face the attack and Keith screamed as he started the arch of his blade. Before it made any kind of contact, they vanished. All four left Keith alone in the middle of the street.

“What?!” Keith turned left.

He turned right. “Lance?”

He spun back around behind him.

No one.

“Lance!”

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man.  
> How corny was a waterfall scene?  
> Tres cliché, non? Pfft, lol.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone and your support and kind words!  
> It's been difficult to write with my mad ridiculous work schedule, but I'm always excited to get to it when I can because of readers like you all!  
> Thank you again! <3
> 
>   * [Tumblr](https://crystalsilhouette.tumblr.com/)
>   * [FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/73584/)
> 



	6. Flux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a forewarning, things get just a little bloody in this chapter. Not gorey, but messy.

** Flux **

 

Kolivan’s silence was less than reassuring. Keith could tell that the wheels were working in his head as he systematically went through options and possibilities. However, the fact that it wasn’t an outright agreement chilled him to his very core.

“Kolivan, please.” Shiro pleaded to the communications screen, “We need every bit of help we can get.”

Kolivan’s eyes drifted to Keith for a brief moment, standing next to Shiro in the mess of Voltron paladins that filled the Galran’s own screen. Keith wasn’t sure what those gears were shifting then. Was he too angry with Keith to help them? He might have gone against everything Kolivan had ordered when it came to Vartex, but Lance didn’t have to pay for that. A small grimace threatened to overcome Keith’s features, but it laxed when Kolivan finally spoke.

“We have precious few resources, Paladin.” Kolivan gave a minute nod, “But we will do everything we can with what we are able to spare. We will find him.”

“Thank you.” Shiro’s countenance eased visibly, “I knew we could count on the Blade of Marmora for help.”

“Indeed. Voltron will always have an ally in us.” Kolivan signed off with that.

When the screen cleared, Keith let out a deep breath he didn’t even realize that he held. Apparently, there was still doubt lingering in Keith about Kolivan and his judgments. (Perhaps, even, vice versa.) Even so, he was glad that the Marmoran leader offered what help he could. They would need every bit to try and find where these attackers took Lance. And  _how._

Keith still couldn’t believe that they just up and vanished before his own eyes. The edge of his blade cut nothing by air. He scanned his memory of the incident over and over, trying to find what options and windows of opportunity he had missed. Each time he concluded that it was his fault. If he hadn’t told Lance they were over, he wouldn’t have stormed off on his own. If he had just let Lance have the moment with him he wanted to share, despite the ache of pity-saving pretense, he would still be there. With him. Or at least he could have done better to stop them from taking him. It tore at Keith’s innards like a rabid beast and he felt like all that was left were the shredded scraps of his conscience’s carcass rotting in his stomach.

“You can't think of anything that might clue us in on who they might have been, Keith?” Matt digitally paged through some images of known bounty hunters that he downloaded from public domain servers as well as what the Rebels had in their databases. “None of these people look close?”

“No.” The defeat in his voice was clear to everyone in the room.

Hunk placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He smiled in soft reassurance when Keith looked over to him. “We'll find him.” Keith nodded subtly.

“What's really upsetting to me…” Pidge continued to hack away relentlessly on her panel, “Is that his BLIP is completely undetectable.”

“You're not saying that he's-” Allura was cut off before she could finish the thought, not that she wanted to.

“No. I mean, it's vanished. If he  _was,_ I would at least get some reading. A flatline. A function ping at minimum.” Sister Holt explained. “But it's just…  _gone_.”

Keith's guilt-beast rumbled again at the notion Allura had brought forward. There was a dread that pricked at him in that split-second. A dread that would overcome him for the remainder of his days if it had been true. Lance had been stolen for little over two and a half hours by then. Three vargas, at most. They searched much of the square they had been working out of, asked locals if they had seen or known anything about the abductors with little success. Even those within the Rebellion were of little knowledge, though they did promise to keep their wits about should anything present itself. He swallowed thickly when Pidge denied the possibility, suppressing that monster within for a little while longer.

“You don't think that it could have been damaged somehow?” Coran had spoken up, playing the devil's advocate.

“That's possible.” Pidge indulged the notion, “But it would have to have been one hell of a beating. I've implemented enough redundancies within everyone's suit that they would have to be utterly destroyed for the BLIP to not even send a simple signal return.”

“Well, that's a relief.” Coran thought a moment. “On a related note, you wouldn't happen to have one of those upgraded beauties laying around for me, ay?”

Pidge smiled, making a mental note.

Keith took in a deep breath, feeling it stutter as he sucked it into his lungs. He let it out, thinking only of the look on Lance's face as he tried to call out to him. If only. If only to have been faster. If only to have been closer. His knuckles we're bone white beneath the gloves on his hands. He clenched his fists so tight his nails nearly forced through leather. But Keith hardly noticed.

Cloaked and nondescript, but rather burly it seemed. They had to have had some strength to them. Lance struggled with nearly everything and neither grip on him slipped. He was out manned and out muscled from the very beginning. Faces were covered by dark fabric that matched the black of their outfits. It was possible they had been light-skinned - which narrowed their pool by only so much - but everything would have looked pale against blackness. But then the one that had knocked the consciousness right out of McClain  _did_  have skin that looked what could be compared to teal. It was lift enough that the tattoo was fairly obvious.

“Wait…” Keith murmured under his breath, brows knitting pensively tight.

Dark markings on his bare arm. He had shorter sleeves than the others. When he turned to look at Keith in his approach, he caught a glimpse of it.  _What did it look like?_  He closed his eyes, cleared his mind with a breath, and tried to clarify the picture in his memory. There were several symbols. The focal point was an infinity symbol. But pointed at either end. Upright, akin to teardrops with touching bellies and their tips at an opposite slant. In a clockwise direction from either end followed a group of four dots that began the form of a circle and, next, a stacked set of two lines that completed the round shape.

“Keith?” Hunk noticed the bothered expression pinched on his friend's face. He figured it might have been due to the certain connect Keith had with Lance and he wanted to reassure his dear friend with an understanding. But he didn't know how to communicate it discreetly in the midst of everyone else. “A-are you ok?”

“Hold on a second.” there was a slight bite in the abruptness of his response. And Keith hadn't meant it harshly, but he didn't want to lose his concentration. He knew that symbol.  _Why_  did he know that symbol? It was right at the edge of his mind’s eye. He could see the image, but he couldn’t see the whole thing. Where was it from?

“Wait…” Pidge mumbled behind her console, “That. That can’t be right.”

“What’s the matter, Pidge?” Matt scooted over, peeking curiously over her shoulder.

“It’s Lance’s BLIP signal.” she answered and everyone else in the room focused on her, “It’s incredibly weak, but it’s back online.”

“What’s the problem?” A thick swallow stuck in Keith’s throat as Shiro asked the question.

“It’s… nearly five galaxies away.”

“What?” Matt and Hunk both leaned in closer to get a clearer look at the screen.

“There’s no way he could be  _that_ far away in such a short amount of time!” Hunk shook his head in disbelief.

“Even with the Teludav, it would still take at least twice as much time to make such a distance - and that’s being generous!” Coran plotted the figures in the castleship’s system, “To make a jump like that, the kind of energy it would demand would be incredible. Nevermind the kind of toll that would take on the system - or the  _princess_  for that matter!”

“That  _is_  quite a considerable distance…” Allura was clearly worried about making an attempt to jump that journey. It was clear there was a war within her between altruistically saving a friend and self-preservation.

“We would never ask you to do such a thing, Princess.” Shiro soothed. “Coran, set the ship’s heading and make sure to give it everything she’s got. Allura, once we get to a distance close enough to make a jump without -”

“Without question!” she nodded solidly.

“Keith, we’ll need-” Shiro turned to his protege and stopped when he saw the look on his face. “What is it, Keith?”

He remembered. He remembered exactly where he saw that symbol. The blinking marker on their destination elucidated every detail around it. A bleached-white wall of stone. Stone decorated with intricate carvings embellishing those familiar lines and curves at their center, only shadowed by the overgrowth of centuries of neglect and disuse.

“Pidge.” Keith finally said after a deep breath, “Bring up the files from Vartex.”

She wasted little time bringing it up for all to see.

“What are you looking for?”

“Just start clicking through. I'm looking for an image…”

Everyone one else in the room focused on the images that Pidge flashed, quickly isolating the files to pictures only. They stood in silence, wondering what it was Keith was in search of and how it was going to help.

“There.”

It was an image of what looked to be a royal crest. The image of the symbol Keith sought was emblazoned on a shield. The focus of the picture was most obviously the crest, though, it was easy to tell that the piece was set against a grand stone wall, edges and seams of banners and flags clipped into the corners of the image.  The princess took a step toward the projection with a distance in her eyes that few took note of. Something about the image called to her in an ethereally distance voice.

“What is it?” Hunk was the one to ask.

“One of the attackers.” Keith studied the picture with fixed, unyielding eyes, “One of them had  _that_  tattooed on his arm. I only saw a flash of it for a second. But I know for damned sure that’s it.”

Keith looked to Shiro. “We have to go to Vartex. NOW.”

The gravity of Keith’s tone lit an urgency in everyone, figuring that Keith’s personal experience on the planet had him privy to the true danger that Lance was in. Coran, having already righted the ship to its proper heading, initiated the main thrusters. Once the ship was in full motion, all engines ripped open and, like the flash of a star, they began their way to cut through the galaxies before them.

_Hold on, Lance… We’re coming._

_I’m coming._

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

Lance hit the dirt on all fours and vomited.

It wasn’t enough that his stomach was still throbbing from the hook to his gut earlier, but he could hear his captors chuckling at his misfortune. His vision was still blurred only finding his consciousness a mere few minutes prior. The pounding in his head was only dulled by the pain in his body and all of it panged in a fierce ache when he lurched again. He coughed out what was left in his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Wow. He’s got the constitution of a kaegen-ro.” Lance could hear the amusement laced in the deep gravel of a voice. There was a snickering response.

Lance wanted to get up. He wanted to make a break for it. He knew he could cover a good amount of distance. He had the legs for it. He might not have been as fast as Keith, but he was still pretty spry. Plus, judging from the size of his attackers, they would be too burly to keep pace with him for too long. He wanted with everything he had left in him. But he was too dizzy and too nauseated to even see straight. Any effort he made would have been laughable - and he had enough of that from them as it was.

“Get him up.” Lance watched a pair of feet scrap passed him, “Haie Ghessa will have quite a few questions for this one.”

McClain felt the same unkind hands clasp around his arms again and he was lifted to his feet as though he weighed little more than air. He attempted to make an effort in walking on his own, but for the most part, he was dragged along. But then his sight had focused a bit more and he managed to get a glance around him.

He knew this place.

They were walking down the docking bay of an abandoned ship port. It was Vartex. Oh, this was bad news. Lance could tell that much without having to wonder what kind of questions they had ‘in store’ for him. This past week he spent  _still_ trying to figure out what the last Vartesian did to him. Now that there were more, he wasn’t too excited about what they probably had planned.

They moved within the terminal but took halls and passages that Keith and he never glanced twice at. Nothing he saw after his eyes finally adjusted were at all familiar. The only thing he recognized was the same halo of green that followed down every wall. The only sound around them was the hollow echoes of boots down the halls. They traveled in silence. None of the three towering figures - each of them at the very least a head taller than Lance - spoke much of a word to each other, let alone to him. That was hardly Lance’s style, but, he just didn’t have it in him to bring forward any semblance of a word.

He no longer felt nauseated, which he was glad for. It seemed once he had puked up every bit of lunch he had, he was perfectly fine. His head still throbbed like a anvil that had a blacksmith giving it a hard beating and didn’t know when to quit. He had the ringing in his ears to match. But mostly, he felt completely void of energy. He had no drive. No force of will. No fight. He only ever felt that way one other time. That time he had a giant hand wrapped around his throat that wasn’t much different from the ones that currently had him at either bicep.

They spent an uncomfortable amount of time in an elevator. The one that Lance had figured was the leader of this rag-tag group stood right in front of him, so he couldn’t even see just how far down they went. When they stepped out of the lift, the halls looked exactly the same. It was like the place was designed to confuse anyone that didn’t know their way around. Doors were spaced exactly the same and placed in exactly the same way. There were no signs, or information of any sort. Without a map on hand, it was a labyrinth. If he managed to contact anyone - whoever could hear him from a supposedly ‘abandoned’ planet several thousands of light years away, (yes, he actually paid attention when Coran rattled things like that off once in a while,) - he would never be able to actually tell them where he was. Or remember where he had been if he broke loose with what Keith was probably looking for.

Suddenly, Lance heard a door open and the door of muscle in front of him stepped aside.

_Heh. Figures._

It was a bare room. Nothing in it aside from a single chair. That, and a fourth person of their ilk. They stood just to the side of the seat, arms crossed and in a lax stance, all their weight to one side of their hip.

“Took long enough.” It was a female.

“You try five galaxies some time.” The one to his right snuffed as they moved him into the room.

Her response was silence as they dropped Lance into the chair and secured his arms behind the backrest. They moved back to the door as they first stood waiting. Once they exited, he turned to speak to the woman.

“Try not to kill him too quickly.”

“Yes. Thank you, yes.” Ah, McClain seemed to have found a little bit of his pep again, “I prefer you to take as long as possible in starting that process.”

“It might have been a while since I’ve done this,” she eyed Lance, “But don’t confuse that for being rusty, Halvok.”

The one called Halvok snorted in contempt before moving to shut the door behind him.

“So tell me, small one.” That stung his pride a little, “Where is the one that was with you before?”

It was Keith. They were after Keith. But how was it they were able to find  _him_  and not Keith? Especially since Keith was right next to him. They didn’t know what he looked like. He was just as covered as they were when he came. He made sure that nothing tied him to Marmora or Voltron. They couldn’t be sure who he was when they took him in that town. It could have been anyone of the people in that town.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Lance shrugged. “I’ve got lots of friends.”

The outer corners of his interrogator’s eyes crinkled slightly. She had smiled behind her mask.

“Very well.” She stepped closer and leaned in, looking at Lance face-to-face, “The last time you were here. When you broke into the facility. Who was with you? And what did you take?”

There was no aggression in her tone. It was even and benign. She asked. But she made sure to let Lance know that she expected answers. He was keen to give them to her. They just weren’t going to be the ones that she wanted.

“I was here looking for  _Destiny_.” Lance answered with a sigh, “But  **I**  didn’t take anything. However, I’d be willing to take you out for a bit of stargazing later, if you’d like.” His brows waggled a bit as he gave her that confident Lance McClain smirk and she gave a soft laugh, standing upright again.

“I always did like it better when they played along.”

The sound of her palm striking against Lance’s cheek filled the room in a sharp echo.

  
. . . . . . . . .

 

The Teludav powered down and the Castle of Lions slipped out of the wormhole. They had made certain to exit to a point that the Galra ship was not able to detect their entry, their distance safe and their view obscured by the planet.

“Alright. We don’t have any time to waste.” Shiro’s voice warned in each headset. “Keep your profiles low and stick close to Keith.”

“There’s a dense wooded area near the city where the Lions and my ship can tuck away in.” Keith added.

The docks of the castleship opened and four lions chased after a small shuttle that made for the surface of Vartex. While the lions managed to keep up well enough, Keith felt that the ship had grown disapprovingly heavy in the gravity of the planet. It just wouldn’t move as fast as Keith had wanted it to. There was no reaching Lance fast enough. Who knows what they had done to him. The only relief that Keith could feel was that thin line on his reads that beat to the rhythm of Lance’s pulse last they saw in the ship. These inhabitants hardly wasted a second on Keith when they had a hold of him. He didn’t know why, but he was glad they didn’t have the same sense of urgency to be rid of McClain. He feared what that could have possibly meant otherwise, and every second it took to cover ground was three seconds too long.

Once they reached the city Keith had found before, and double-checking triangulations between that and the Galra ship, they all grounded their vehicles before piling into Green Lion. With her stealth, they were able to bypass the city entirely and make for the plateau. Pidge circled overhead quietly, and every set of eyes were on the lookout for movement. It was quiet. Just as ghostly looking as it had lied about for the first visit Keith had made. Satisfied, Green Lion perched at the end of the run, near the cliff Keith was all-too-familiar with, and they all made for the building, weapons drawn and at the ready.

“I downloaded the floorplan of this place from the intel that Keith had found initially.” Pidge spoke softly as they stepped inside, Keith opening the door with no more trouble than before, “But when I tried to access file and initiate schematic, the file corrupted.”

“It’s too old to work with the new tech…” Matt mused from behind her.

“So what you’re saying is you need a new map.” Keith sighed heavy, but quiet. “It’s this way. Keep your eyes and ears open. That was where we got jumped last time.”

Keith felt eerily disturbed at how quiet and simple this was. Just as it had been the first go. He couldn’t understand how these people were able to sneak up on him - twice - and when he wasn’t alone. Their steps were soft, but their movements seemed to be the only thing echoing off the walls. Things felt too easy.

Just then he heard footsteps as they turned a corner down the last corridor to the control room. He signed for everyone to stop and huddle down. As they did so, he slipped to the end of the wall and carefully snuck a glance. The broad back of a cloaked figure walking away from him and ducked into the door he knew was the control room.

“ _Shit._ ” Keith muttered under his breath before turning back to the group. “Someone just walked into the control room.”

“Everyone get ready. There’s no telling how many of them are in there.” Shiro moved up ahead to take the lead. He glanced around the corner to double check the clear. “Matt, Hunk. Keep eyes on the rear.”

The two of them nodded and the group quietly moved for the doorway. Hunk, Keith and Allura made a quickstep for the other side of the opening. When they all took a look into the room, they found only one solitary sentry within. He stood behind the panel that Keith recalled the last encounter they had in there ended. If it was only one of them, it was possible they could take him down like before with two.

Keith looked over to Shiro and began mouthing to him.  _You and me._

Shiro nodded and stood ready. Keith took in a deep breath, beginning a mental countdown and with a glance at Shiro they blew into the room like a silent gust of wind. Keith slipped low with a sweep of his leg and knocked the man backward off his feet. At the same time, Shiro had gone high and slammed a mechanical elbow into his nose, hastening the momentum of his fall. If that hadn’t been enough, Shiro’s natural hand palmed the man’s face and forced his head down faster. The Vartesian hit the ground with a hard thud before he could even realize what it was that happened. He was out cold in just a few seconds.

Much to their great relief, there wasn’t another soul in the room. Quickly the rest moved in. Keith, Hunk, and Matt worked at getting the poor watchmen out of the way. Hopefully, once stuffing him into one of the empty rooms, he would be out of their hair for a good while if he were to wake up. The Galra pad flashed to life when Keith pressed his palm to it and the door opened. The other two dragged him into the center of it and left. Once they were out, Keith closed the door and stuck the business end of his dagger into the panel. He hoped that would be enough. When they returned, Pidge was already plugged into the panel and working on the file extraction.

“Ngh…” She groaned, “This is no good. These interfaces are just much too different. It keeps corrupting every time I try to access it.”

“Just use the console here and reference Lance’s signal from your panel remotely.” Matt suggested.

“Hey! That’s a great idea!” Hunk beamed, “Just run both at the same time and remote project them together!” He paused and frowned, “But wait… That would mean you would be stuck to the console.”

“I just might have to be, Hunk.” Pidge sighed as she started the process to do so.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay here and watch her back.” Matt rested his hand on Hunk’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Alright, Pidge.” Shiro nodded to Matt. “Be our eyes for us.”

“All I can give you is a path to Lance’s signal. I can’t tell you anything else, so make sure you be careful in there. No telling how many more of those guys are wandering around the halls. I sure as hell can’t.”

The remaining paladins nodded, battle ready and eager to retrieve their companion. They moved back out into the hall. Keith, again dressed in his dark armor and hood, lifted it over his head before he followed behind.

“Keith.”

He turned to Pidge.

“Bring him home safe.”

His brows furrowed before he made a brisk nod, “I have every intention to.”

 

. . . . . . . . . 

 

Slow, thoughtful fingers slipped into dark milky chocolate strands of hair. She was surprised at how soft it was. She actually really liked it. But that was enough distraction for the moment. Suddenly, the clenched a good handful and pulled, drawing his face up to see.

“Is it really worth all of this?” she asked evenly, “You’ve got to be tired of it already. You don’t have to keep swallowing this pain anymore if you just give it up, already.”

Lance was nearly unrecognizable. His face and even his pants were covered in his own once-warm, dark blood - not that one could really make out just how much against the black fabric. Even the front of his paladin armor was beginning to adopt a rusty tinge of bloody trails and spots. This chick had to have been at this for  _hours_  now. Trying every way she could think to get him to crack open and give her what she wanted. Still, he refused. He asked for his black eye. He earned his busted lip, his torn brow, his swollen cheek, his probably-busted nose. He was sure there was a bit of bruising in his ribs too because it hurt every time he inhaled, causing his breath to shorten.

_Swallowing the pain?_  He had to laugh at that. He went numb a long time ago. It was barely more than discomfort at this point. He was too tired to hurt anymore. She could keep going if she really wanted to. All Lance wanted was a nap. Tired. He just felt so tired and every time he would get a chance to let himself drift just a little, she would pull him back to consciousness. Just like now, forcing his eyes to open at her voice and focus. That only made the pressure in his head throb more.

But he could keep going forever. He was resolved. He had purpose to. He had Keith in his heart. Knowing that they couldn’t get to him without Lance giving him to them made all of this worth it. So the answer to her question was ‘yes, Keith was worth it.’ In the quiet moments she thought that he was suffering and having to catch his breath, he could hear him. He could see him. He could feel that moment they had together fill him and feed him. Keith’s smile. Keith’s touch. Even the copper scent of blood couldn’t wash away the memory of how Keith’s skin tasted. As long as there was breath in him, Keith would never be found.

“Eat… Shit…” He had little left to say anymore.

She let go of his hair, letting her fingers trace down the line of his face until they rested under his chin, tsking. He watched her cock her head to one side through a swollen eyelid and the other clenched shut to keep out the blood. She reached for him with the other hand. To his right shoulder. Where his shirt of his suit was sliced, and his sleeve was ripped slightly. Specifically, over the muscle between his ball joint and chest. That small bit of thick meat that was not quite protected by his chest piece or pauldron, where a blade set itself. It could have been described similarly to a throwing knife, small and streamlined, but it was used for no such thing. Both of his eyes clamped down tightly when he realized she went for it, his teeth clenched, and his jaw locked in anticipation.

She grabbed it gently between her forefinger and thumb and he screamed through caged teeth until he couldn’t keep them closed any longer. It burned like fire. It shocked like electricity. It felt like something alive clawing and tearing into him through that blade and he could feel it branching out from there into the rest of his body. Everything burned, every pain that was dulled flared again. It surged through him like a wildfire, like a raging electrical storm, like a dammed lava flow that no longer held. It overtook him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Everything went black and Lance passed out.

She sighed to herself, “As entertaining as this has been, I don’t think we have any reason to continue any further.” The Vartesian pulled a long dagger from her belt and rested the menacing end of its fang just against the front of his shirt at the very center of McClain’s chest. “Thanks to  _you_ , I’ll be getting called ‘rusty’ for tarzeks now.”

  
. . . . . . . . .

 

“You’re almost there. Just two rights and it’s the third door to your left.”

Keith wanted desperately to ask Pidge if Lance was still alright. But the basic dumb-down of information she had to do in order to work with both generations of tech, all she could see was his location signal. No vitals.  _Please, Lance, I’m almost there._  Keith turned the corner in a dead run, distracted by his worry, and nearly ran into the second Vartesian in the complex.

“Shit!” he hissed, managing to drop to the floor and slide between his broad legs.

“What the-!” the guard was surprised enough by the flash of quick movement, he jumped in reaction to Keith’s slide. When he looked up again he only saw Shiro’s glowing fist for a second. The punch connected and sent him tumbling into a wall. He managed to catch himself against it, but not quickly enough to avoid Hunk putting him in a choke hold.

“Keep going! We’ll make sure this one stays out of the say.” Allura urged Shiro and Keith.

As they turned to leave, Keith saw the guard go limp in Hunk’s arms. He would be out for at least a few minutes.  _Long enough to find Lance and start out of here,_  Keith thought. He could see it. He could see the door. But before he could say anything to Shiro he dove and rolled away from the swing of what was probably an axe. He turned and skidded to a stop just in time to see Shiro kick off the wall and ram a shoulder into the attacker separating him from his weapon and shoving them both down the hall he came from.

“GO!” he heard Shiro’s voice before a mess of grunts and slams. He didn’t need to be told twice.

Keith made for the door, his hand finding the panel even before his feet stood at the door. His heart raced from adrenaline, from anxiety, it beat quickly in anticipation of seeing the look on Lance’s face when he bust through the door. His chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths, doing very little to calm the quick course of blood. But when the door opened, and he saw what stood before him, his breath stopped completely. Lance’s head hung limp over his bloodied chest where the edge of a blade poised to sink.  _No._

“NO!” He yelled, pulling a knife from his waist.

The interrogator turned at the scream, surprised at the interruption. Keith threw it with everything he had in him, blind in rage and panic. The knife flew so fast she didn’t even see it until it sank into the left side of her abdomen with a thick, wet thump. She dropped the dagger at her feet, looking down at this foreign protrusion in her body, stumbling backward as her mind tried to make sense of the sudden rush of pain. Shock overcame her and she dropped back against the far wall, falling to the ground.

Keith couldn’t have cared less, his focus on Lance and the fact that he didn’t budge a muscle. He ran to him, sliding down to his knees in front of the chair.

“Lance…” he called softly at first.

He saw McClain’s face, beaten, bruised and swollen. Blood soaked everywhere. And the blade in his shoulder tucked neatly in that articulating space between armor. Keith looked at it and then at Lance. He looked at it again before reaching and yanking it out in a single smoot pull. Nothing. Lance didn’t even wince. Keith opened his mouth to call to him again, but the only thing to come out was a sob. His eyes started to burn as tears began to well in his eyes. Was he too late? He should have been there sooner.

“Lance.” his voice was hardly a whisper and cracked at what letters he managed to sound. He reached for his face, wanting him to open his eyes and see him with a smile. Tears fell when he won nothing of the sort.

“Lance, talk to me.” He noticed his arms still strapped to the chair and moved quick to cut him loose with the tool in his hand.

He was quick to catch him as his weight fell forward and slowly eased him down to the floor, casting the blade aside. It panged aahollow glassy sound as it hit the floor and scraped across the empty room. He held Lance close and gave a heartbroken laugh, pulling back the hood on his head.

“Figures you would miss this a second time, huh?” Keith’s face contorted in anguish. He couldn’t even feel him breathing. “Lance, please. Just open your eyes and  _look at me._ ”

This was his fault. All of this was his fault. He should have listened to Kolivan from the very beginning. If he had, Lance would have never ended up on Vartex and he would never had been brought back. Keith did this. It was because of him that he could possibly never see Lance smile again. He might never hear him laugh or tease him. He would never hear any more of those stupid pickup lines or corny jokes. Keith would never see Lance look at him the way he had the night prior. He would never feel that touch again. He would never feel safe in his arms, never taste another kiss, or feel his breath against his skin again.

“Lance, god damn it…” His face had grown hot with tears flowing as openly as his sobs. He clutched McClain close, burying his face in the crook of his neck as McClain's head hung back. “Don’t fucking leave me like this.”

He heard a clamor at the door but didn’t care who or what it was.

“Oh my god…” It was Allura’s voice.

“Lance?!” Hunk followed after.

The three other paladins stepped into the room, surprise and distress over Lance’s broken form washing over them the closer they came. Before anything else could be uttered between them, they were surrounded by a great number of Vartesians. Out of nowhere, in a swarm of light, they filled the room and encircled them all. There was no possibility, with the kind of strength they seemed to have, for them to fight them all and make it out. Each of them was armed and ready to strike any of them that moved.

“You’re really starting to become an  _actual_  headache, kid.” Keith recognized the gravelly voice as the very first Vartesian that chucked him over the cliff side, “I’m getting real sick of that control room thanks to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who left kudos and those that have been reading along.  
> Truly, I am happy knowing that there are folks out there enjoy what I have to share. 
> 
> Thoughts on this one? Please don't hurt me for Lance's situation. I promise... it will get better!
> 
> There is only one more chapter before Breathe Deep comes to its exciting end! Yay! Hopefully all the things will come to a neat and happy resolution. I hope I will see you all for the final one! Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
>  
> 
> Also! I've added a thing!!
> 
>   * [Tumblr](https://crystalsilhouette.tumblr.com/)
>   * [FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/73584/)
> 

> 
> The fanfiction link is probably not all that important, but feel free to visit the tumblr! I'm still new to the darn thing and it looks like crap and I haven't really figured it out yet. But, if you're around and want to chat, maybe that will light a fire under me to really get the thing up and running! So come visit!
> 
> Cheers!  
> <3


	7. Shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small reminder that this is only post season four. I have yet to see seasons five and six...   
> So, anything similar to things going on in current seasons or anything contradicting are purely coincidental. Haha.

** Shift **

 

It was a rather listless flight pattern. If there were any sort of regulation on space flight a citation for reckless driving probably would have been right up this particular pilot’s alley.

“Sentry duty.” He scoffed, “I hate sentry duty. It’s so boring. Nothing ever happens, and I’m stuck on this stupid job for a whole cycle.”

The pilot leaned an elbow his panel, propping his chin up with his palm. He began to idly flick his radar switch on and off with a dull sigh. His ship idled on his slow orbit for a long while, letting the gravity of the planet ease his vessel around bend. The first few times he was sent on sentry duty when they cut to solo runs, he had already broke his ship loose and saw just how much fun he could have without the Empire breathing down his neck. For a little while, it was fun. It was something to look forward to. It was freedom. But after his fourth deploy on sentry, the solitude had lost its luster.

There was never anything new. They were too far out from any thoroughfare or trade route to see any sort of traffic or visits to the planet. Now that sentry was done with a lone ship instead of with a pair, it was even worse. Now, it was a full cycle without anyone to talk to. Even the stars were dull. There wasn’t even an asteroid belt nearby to fly through, let alone comic visits or anything remotely exciting.

The pilot’s jaw widened, threatening to unhinge, with a gigantic yawn. With just as dramatic a stretch, he flicked on his radar on again and slumped into his chair enough to make any drill instructor in any space militia quite cross. It was a few ticks into cursing himself for not thinking ahead and bringing snacks for his shift before his placid silence was shattered by a rather enthusiastic beep. He jumped in his seat, sitting up and hurriedly clicking buttons. Maps shifted and screens swelled into view, the mechanics were inciting several alarms. Suddenly, the boredom ebbed and made way for panic.

“H-holy shit!” hands darted for keys and switches, too quick to notice the shaking, “What is it? What do I do? Nothing ever happens! Why does it have to happen while _I’m_ on shift?!”

He brought up a blinking panel on his screen and tapped it. No sooner had he done so, the entire screen made way for a visual of a large ship in the distant shadow of the planet. His systems had picked up the high energy shields it had put up. “F-Fuck! U-uh… Uhm.” He racked his brain for S.O.P. in this situation. “C-contact! Gotta – command ship!” There wasn’t supposed to be anything out there. There was never anything out there. How did he always end up with the business end of the shit stick?

“S-Sonos 254 to Command!” he stammered, “Sonos 254 to Command! Do you read me Command?”

“We read you, Sonos.” was his answer.

“Commander Thax!”

“What is it, Sonos?” the commander sneered at the screen, hardly moved by the alarm on his soldier’s face.

“Commander, I-I found- there’s a ship, sir! On the far side of the planet!”

Thax’s yellow eyes narrowed, “What sort of ship?”

“A big one!” the pilot sent his feed to the command ship and suddenly Thax was far more interested.

“I know that ship.” He mumbled. How grand a victory would it be to finally be able to set foot on this stupid rock _and_ hand Lord Zarkon the heads of each paladin, “Muster every pilot on this ship. I want those hangars empty and ready concentrate attack on that ship… And Vartex.”

“SIR!”

“Lieutenant! Get me Lord Zarkon.” 

 

. . . . . . . . 

 

“Kroxtla!” A woman's voice filled the room, “Mae-kani!”

All eyes moved to the back of the room as a few of the Vartesians huddled around the fallen interrogator. In the commotion around her, she stirred. But only slightly. Still, that was far more of a response than Keith could garner out of Lance. It only would have upset him further if he had cared enough to pay them any mind. He didn't even lift his eyes when the burly voice addressed him directly. All he could focus on was Lance slipping away from him.

The other three Paladins moved into a fighting stance, surrounding Keith and Lance on as many sides as they could. There was no clear way to make it out of this. But they weren't going to make it an easy victory for them if that's what it came down to.

“Well…” Halvok seemed comfortable in his command of the room, folding his arms over his chest smugly, “If you so insist. It will be pleasing to rip you to bits for all the double you’ve caused me these last few days.”

Halvok reached back over his shoulder and pulled a familiar axe forward. It was much more menacing seeing it in more than a flash. The haft was neatly the length of his broad arm, without even considering the grip along with it. The hook from toe to heel boasted a length long enough to bury itself into Shiro from collarbone to waist and still have inches left. The glow of plasma along the edge promised to make sure it would slide right through him. Shiro’s guard went taught and his fists clenched tighter, the energy from his mechanized limb snaking out in threatening waves and spirals. The only reason Shiro walked away from the first encounter with Halvok was the element of surprise, not to mention quite a bit more elbow room.

As a matter of fact, he was quite sure that it wouldn’t be left to just them and this particular Vartesian. In a matter of moments, Shiro was fairly keen on the knowledge that they would be overcome by the small sea of blackened warriors that held them deep in the belly of their own territory. This was a disaster, tactically speaking. But, a paladin’s duty was to fight and protect. And he would most assuredly fight and protect his own.

Halvok broke first, taking several heavy steps into a run, his axe on the start of a forward arch. Shiro spurred to meet him, catching the haft mid-swing. There was a rush of air that burst from between them, the result of their clashing energy. Onlookers covered their eyes or turned away. The commotion was enough to pull Keith’s attention from Lance and worry a moment for Shiro’s wellbeing. It was clear across Halvok’s face, the surprise of Shiro’s strength. His obvious expectation was nothing close to having his attack halted completely.

“I don’t know who you are,” Halvok spit through gritted teeth, “But I’m beginning to think that scavenging a dead planet isn’t what you’ve come here for.”

“Then perhaps it would be a wiser choice to cease this violent altercation and ask what it is they intend to do here.”

The voice behind him was aligned to something near a melody. It was lilting, but stern. Simple words couldn’t sound any more regal than those had as they drifted into the atmosphere of impending carnage. Every able body within the four walls straighten with honed adulation. The tension in Halvok dissipated and Shiro could feel the axe ease away from him. The paladin followed suit.

“Haie Ghessa!” the Vartesian had stopped his assault but did not put down his guard. Rather, Shiro could feel his eyes sharpen their wariness on him, “It is unsafe for you to be before these intruders. There is no telling what they want.”

“Perhaps there _is_ ,” She replied, Shiro saw a delicate, teal-skinned hand slip over Halvok’s broad shoulder, “If we _tried_ asking.”

Halvok was clearly against the notion, but his respect for whatever higher authority commanded him was far beyond his personal preference. He lowered his weapon entirely, the menacing energy emblazoned upon it dissipating, and stepped aside.

The general size, it seemed, of the Vartesians was comparable to that of Galra physiology. They generally seemed similarly, evenly proportioned, but just a bit stockier than the human frame. All in the room were taller than each paladin, by at least several inches, basing from Shiro’s tallest measurements. This figure was no different. However, the air about her made her seem twice as towering. She moved, poised and graceful, almost floating into the room. Though her regalia was rather modest and subdued, there was a radiance about her that came from the glow of her lightly colored skin against the darkness of the walls surrounding them. The teal of her flesh was speckled with darker shaded splotches and marks that reminded Shiro of the markings on a cheetah. The frame of her face was slender, and her features were soft. Her dark eyes were a stark contrast to the light gold of her hair that fell long behind her. The crown of her forehead had several tendrils that followed the flow of her locks, the color of her skin, none falling beyond her shoulder.

She stood before Halvok and he pulled back his dark hood and followed suit with the mask over his face, bringing into plain view every feature of his face for her to see clearly. He was similarly colored, along with the native spotting, and had just as many tendrils from his forehead that neither fell beyond his shoulders, though his black strands of hair beneath them did so neatly in a ponytail. His strong chin and deeper cut features began to mark the spectrum among Vartesian features.

Once he revealed his face to his exalted leader, the rest of the room followed in kind. The marks of the Vartesians became apparent across the present populace. Light, freckled skin and tendrils. Shiro backed off from them in the process, rejoining the other paladins as they took in the sight. The princess, however, moved to take his place before the others.

“Phaal… Ghessa?” she asked, as though trying to remember the words to a forgotten song.

“Well…” the Vartesian looked to be smiling, “This is highly unexpected.”

The woman moved beyond that of her overzealous solider and stepped before the princess. She looked over the Altean for a moment before speaking further.

“It has been quite some time, Princess Allura.” She greeted with a delicate bow of her head, “However, it is _Haie_ Ghessa, now.”

“Of course. My deepest apologies, _Haie_ Ghessa.” Allura replied with a deep bow of respect. “With the greatest respect we –“

Any further thought Allura wished to share with Haie Ghessa was abruptly cut short by a violent tremor. The room shook and toppled nearly half of those in attendance. Shock and worry began to pointedly train eyes on the four interlopers in the room.

“They attack the surface!” Halvok declared, readying his weapon once more, “They were merely distracting us down here while they have other forces attack from above!”

“Guys! Guys!” Pidge was cutting in through helmet comms, “We’ve got bad news! The Galran command ship just deployed every spitfire they have and they’re coming down on the city!”

“Looks like they’re coming about to the ship as well!” Coran added. “We’ve been spotted by a scouter ship and now they’ve called every force they have present to the offensive!”

“Haie Ghessa,” Allura pleaded in the midst of the panic, walls rumbling after another blow, “Please know that this was not our intention. This attack is not our forces.”

“It is true that the Galra have made enemies of the Altean people… You would fight with us?” Ghessa’s chin tilted up slightly in question, carefully scrutinizing Allura as she reacted.

“You knew about the Galra ship?” Hunk asked, unintentionally blurting out his thoughts.

“We did.” Ghessa answered.

“Please, allow us to take our injured back with us and we will help you fight against the Galra attack,” Shiro negotiated behind the princess. “Let us help you.”

“Your friend will not make it if you take him.” She stated flatly.

“He will!” Keith yelled through the clamor of others.

How could she say such a thing so easily, so carelessly? They wasted enough time sitting here, running their jaws tired while Lance was hurting… While Lance was slipping away from him. They could have pushed their way out if they really wanted to. They could have been back to the castleship. Lance could have been in a healing pod by now. In a healing pod getting better. He could have been back at the ship, safe, close, and no longer losing the warmth in his body that Keith was desperately missing. _He_ can _make it. He **will** make it._

“I will have our healers tend to him. He is in great need of the help they will provide.” Haie Ghessa offered. “They will be thorough with his care.”

As she spoke, her eyes never left Allura. She was pointed in making all her dealings with the princess, Shiro could see. Perhaps it was due to them having known one another it seemed. There was hopefully a history that helped to cultivate enough trust between them to make it through what they currently faced, and if it helped save Lance, perhaps it was best. Shiro reached for Allura’s shoulder, giving her a nod as she looked to him.

“I know that you will treat our friend very well, Haie Ghessa. Thank you.” Allura acquiesced to the terms of allowing their freedom to help.

“Take him to the healers.” Haie Ghessa commanded evenly.

Three of the soldiers moved in on Keith and he clutched Lance close, watching them all as they approached. In doing so he noticed that the one he struck down was gone. The wall against which she laid was bare, marked only by the blood left in her place. Where was she? No one moved passed him. If anyone had gotten near him and Lance…

They reached for Lance and he moved over him, “Someone should stay with him!”

“Keith. We need you out there.” They felt another boom jostle the room again, as if to prove Shiro’s point, “You know that. Lance will be alright… I promise. We’ll come back for him.”

_How could you know that for certain?_ Keith knew, deep down, he was going to be the best help in the battle. But the last thing he wanted to do was leave Lance behind in this state. Not when he was the reason McClain ended up this way. Not like this. He didn’t even want to leave Lance the first time. He never should have from the very start. How could he now? What if he slipped away while he was out there? How could Keith ever live with himself if he lost Lance?

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned, practically ready to bite.

It was Hunk.

“He’ll be okay…” Hunk soothed in a gentle voice, “But none of us will be if we don’t go now.”

Keith glanced back at Lance, in his arms, never seeming so fragile before. He caught the miniscule shift of his chin as he took a small breath. _Hold on, Lance. Keep fighting._ He looked up at the three Vartesians, patiently waiting, and they all crouched down and carefully cradled Lance in their hands. Keith readied himself to help them lift him off the ground, but before he could shift his weight, flecks of light sparked gently around them and in a quiet whisper, they vanished. Hunk and Shiro stared with the same amazement as Keith did. Allura seemed more relieved than anything else.

“You have my word, your friend shall be healed.” Haie Ghessa spoke, “I shall have him returned to you once we are all safe from harm.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Allura bowed her head.

They heard explosions reverberate through the walls again. The room shook hard, nearly toppling Allura off of her feet, if not for Shiro behind her to help keep her balance. Halvok offered the same stability to Haie Ghessa, bits of the building shaking free from the walls and ceiling. Once it stopped, he barked orders.

“Ready the fleet! Raise the defenses and open the turrets!”

With each command, handfuls of soldiers vanished; no doubt beginning to carry out their tasks. Halvok looked to Shiro with considerable distrust in his eyes.

“If more of these ships turn up, we will be lost.” His graveled voice seemed twice as rough as he spoke, “It is possible they have long sent word for reinforcement.”

“Negative.” Shiro blinked when he heard Pidge in his ear, “I’ve been up here monitoring any sort of transmission signal from the command ship and haven’t heard anything since we fell into orbit around Vartex. While we’ve been down here, I’ve been sending a jam signal out along with an intercept algorithm. They’ve been trying the last few minutes, but nothing is going through. The only way they can send for backup is with a ship to take the message out itself.”

“Then we will just have to make sure that they don’t already have one on the way.” The others nodded, determined. Shiro’s brows knitted thoughtfully, “It’s going to take a lot of work to bring that ship down without being able to form Voltron.”

 

. . . . . . . . 

 

Pidge paged through her screens, looking for anything that looked like weapons in the Vartex system. Matt was at a console to the side of the room, trying to decipher languages and find defenses at the same time. He made little progress. He knew only particular letters and groups of symbols. Marson was the linguist, not him.

“They’re going to blast this place to pieces before I can even _find_ anything that looks like a shield!” Matt shifted to another console as he voiced his concerns.

“One side, please!” the elder Holt nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a male voice on the other side of his shoulder. He looked over just in time to be moved to one side by a Vartesian that reached in front of him across the panel and woke it up.

“U-uh…” He stepped back and suddenly noticed the room filled with Vartesians manning several panels.

Pidge joined him not long after, also asked aside for ease of access. Screens began to project all around the room and blips and chirps sounded from every corner. In only moments more, they saw a shield grid come to life around the facility, effectively stopping any further barrage. Pidge took note of movement outside one of the windows. The walls of the space terminal began to shift with a low rumble she could feel through the floor. Bay doors scratched open along their tracks and made way for turret cannons to begin taking aim and firing.

“Well, that’ll probably do it.” Matt said with a satisfied nod.

“Maybe…” Pidge replied thoughtfully, watching the battle, “But only for a little while if we don’t get out there and help. The firing interval on their guns is way too long and there are too many ships for them to take out to really be all that effective. The forcefield is taking the brunt of this attack still. It’s anyone’s guess how long it will last.”

“Then you and Matt head to your lion, Pidge, and start making a difference.” Shiro ordered, “The rest of us are on the way. Once the Vartesian fighters get their attention, we can get our Lions working on the ship as soon as we’re out.”

“Keith,” Allura placed a hand on his shoulder as he began to follow the others out, “Please understand that they are what is best for Lance right now. I promise to explain everything once we’re out of this mess.”

Keith clenched his jaw tightly, wanting with every fiber of his being to argue. He had spent all this time trying to break into the secret of Vartex. Now, he had to just _trust_ them with Lance’s life? After _they_ were the ones that did that to him? It made Keith’s blood boil. They were so quick to chuck him over the side of the cliff at first glance, but they were trustworthy. Lance would be dead if Keith was just a second later, but they were what he needed. He let his eyes drift to the ground, focused on the blood left there he knew belonged to McClain. He nodded quietly, letting Allura take it however she liked and turned to leave with the others.

 

. . . . . . 

 

As the group stepped out onto the tarmac, they stopped abruptly in their tracks. Each of their Lions sat waiting for them to board, sensing the urgency of their paladins’ plight. What tugged at Keith the most was the fact that Red Lion stood among them.

“Well that just made my day easier!” Hunk beamed, excited about not having to run the rest of the way down the cliff where the Lions had been tucked away.

Keith looked up at his former counterpart with a lump in his throat. According to Lance, Red had sensed his trouble at the beginning of all this. Without Red Lion, Lance would never have been there to save him. If that was true, then perhaps the link between Keith and her wasn't entirely broken. Maybe, just for one battle he could…

“I'm taking Red Lion!” Keith announced.

“Is that possible?” Allura asked.

“Won't hurt anything to try.” Keith answered, “Besides, it's quicker than head back to my ship. What do you say, Red?”

Eyes flared to life at the question and there was a low growl that shook the ground they stood on. Seemed like a resounding ‘get-the-hell-in-and-let’s-tear-up-some-Galra’ to Keith if he ever heard one. Keith couldn’t stop a pleased smirk from forming on his lips. He was definitely ready to take out some aggression. He and Red were about to go through some emotional therapy.

 

. . . . . . .   


 

“Welcome to the party, gang!” Pidge greeted as they all broke out of Vartex’s atmosphere.

It was probably the most active the planet had been for a long time. The void of space was ablaze with countless dog fights between Vartex crafts and those from the Empire. The ships were clearly not as sleekly designed as their opposing vessels. They didn’t have the speed, or maneuverability as the others. Even so, they seemed to be holding their own well enough. The biggest disadvantage was that, even as they cut through the Galra fleet, their own suffered just as much.

“Coran,” Shiro hailed, “How are you doing out there?”

“The castleship's defenses are holding out well enough.” Coran responded, “The fleet from the ship has been split and most of the offense is focused on the planet. I’ll be able to hold things down here while you help the Vartesians take down that ship.”

The paladins needed little reminding. It was a simple enough task to start tipping the scales more in favor of Vartex. Each Lion currying favor in their own right, easily cutting down handfuls of attacking ships. Hunk and Allura had made for splinter group of Galra ships that began to head for the castleship at the far side of the planet and made quick work of them. Keith had dashed in to assist Pidge for a double-team attack that blasted through the Galran fighters and even slammed into the side of the command ship. Shiro went straight for the ship’s guns, taking out at least a third of them on his own.

“Alright gang.” Shiro keyed into each headset, “How about we have Volton join the party?”

Red Lion planted its feet just beyond Black Lion on the hull of the command ship. Before he could initiate his Lion’s jaw blade to slice down the side of the ship, something caught his attention in the corner of his eye.

It was a small deployment of three Galran fighters.

They launched from the underside of the ship, presumably to join the fray. But they took off at an alarming speed away from the battle. Keith knew exactly what they were attempting. Voltorn would have to wait. There was no way it would be fast enough to catch up with them in time.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath

If he stayed to form Voltron, there would be no way they would be able to catch these ships in time. They would be too far out of rang. At the rate they moved, they would find the Empire before Voltron would be done with the mess at Vartex and there would be Hell to pay then. He had caused enough trouble as it was. Keith wasn’t about to lend the Empire another opportunity at whatever Vartex had they wanted.

Red Lions feet lifted from the hull and shot off after them in blinding speed.

“Keith!” He heard Shiro calling after him, “what are you doing? We need Voltron!”

“They'll have to do without him for now, Shiro!” Keith pulled his throttle back before slamming it forward, kicking Red Lion into ludicrous speed, “Red is the only one that can catch these guys before they get to the Empire.”

“KEITH!”

Shiro’s call went unanswered as Red Lion left nothing but stardust trails behind.

Keith had forgotten just how fast Red Lion could move. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he could sense the rush coursing in him the faster they went. In an ache of nostalgia, his wrist twisted the controls and Red Lion burst into a corkscrew trajectory. Keith could feel the G-forces pushing against him and he relished it. The tightness in his chest made his heartbeat decibels louder in his ears and he could feel the race of his pulse in his throat. He pushed Red Lion further and its jaw dropped as they saw the burn of thrusters in the distance.

Red Lion’s jaw cannon fired, taking out one of the three ships. The explosion caused the second to veer off course and slow just a bit. Keith was on him in no time and claws cut it in half with little resistance.

“This lion is incredible! You’re incredible!”

Keith practically jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him. “Jesus-fucking-Christ!”

He immediately twisted around, still attempting to pilot Red lion after the last ship. It was a Vartesian woman.

“Who th- How the hell did you-” Each attempt at questioning her was punctuated with glances toward the screen, Keith still trying to keep pace with his prey.

“Relax, Scavver.” she replied, “I’m here to help.”

“The fuck you are!” he snapped, not bothering to look at her anymore and keeping his eyes forward. “Help with _what?!”_

“I saw the ships launch and saw you start after them.” she explained, clearly holding onto the back of his seat for dear life. The ship had started firing at them, deploying explosives that Keith had to dodge around, “But there was no way my ship would be able to keep up with you - I doubt few could, seeing how you fly. I still have your signature, so I thought I would come aboard.”

“My signature?” his brows furrowed in his confusion.

Red Lion returned fire, but the pilot was able to easily fly out of any danger. This ship was different. It was much faster than any of the other fighters and the pilot was pretty adept. Keith gritted his teeth, they were getting too far away from Vartex.

“Fuck!” he cursed, “I can’t nail him down!”

“Get as close as you can.” She said before placing a hand lightly on his shoulder, “And stay close…”

He looked over at her and saw the look on her face. It was a soft expression she gave him; a gentle plead that articulated her taking a great leap of faith in trusting him. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it, considering his history with the Vartesians, but he had little choice otherwise. He gave her a tight nod and proceeded to catch up to the ship as best he could. Once he was able to hold a consistent distance, she took a deep breath and vanished in a small flurry of light.

  
. . . . . .   
  


“Come on! Come on!” the Galran glanced at the corner of his screen for the thousandth time. The Lion was still right behind him. At least he stopped firing at him. Now all he had to do was keep to his course and he could hail the Empire. “Come on!”

There was a sudden, high-pitched beeping. Finally! He was clear of the jamming signal! Immediately, he sent a hail to the Empire.

“Now then…” he felt a sharp poke at his side as he heard the sing-song voice.

Keith saw the ship veer and swerve for a moment. He figured then, she made it in.

“When they answer,” she whispered sweetly from ducked behind his seat, “You will tell them that everything is normal - like you have every time.”

Whatever blade she had on him, poked harder and he shifted away as much as he could with a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Are we clear?” she asked. He nodded quickly.

“Empire Central Command.”

“U-uh.” the pilot swallowed, “Th-this is Sonos 956, of The Watchman under Commander Thax.”

“Copy Sonos. What is it?”

He felt the blade twist and shift upward toward a rib and he winced, feeling it break through the soft piece of his suit.

“J-just sending in the routine report, sir!” He answered abruptly.

“You’re early.” the officer looked over reports as he talked, “Your report isn’t due for another several vargas.”

His teeth clenched into a grimace as the fang bit into flesh. “Well, you know these surveillance jobs. Just looking for someone new to talk to.”

The officer stood quiet a moment.

He sighed. “Alright. But next time keep with the schedule. What is your report?”

He hissed quietly again, “Same as always! Dead space!”

“Copy that, Sonos. I will log your report. Over and out.”

  
. . . . . .   
  


Keith waited, watching the movements of the ship as he tailed it. How was he supposed to know if everything was alright? What if something happened to her? What if she failed in stopping him and Keith was just idly letting him get closer and closer to where he needed to be? How long was he supposed to just wait?

“You can stop now.”

The muscles in his body tensed, gripping the controls in a start. Keith let out a breath as he rolled his eyes. One time. There’s going to be one time that’s going to happen and one of the Vartesians is going to end up with a blade in their ribcage. He slowed Red Lion’s pursuit.

“What did you-”

Before he could finish, the Galran ship still at its full speed suddenly exploded leaving nothing of it but a cloud of grey dust and shrapnel to drift endlessly through the void.

“He managed to contact Central Command, but I had him put in a false report.” she answered his unasked question, “We at least have some time before they figure out something is wrong.”

“...” Keith nodded, “We need to hurry back. They need Voltron.”

The Vartesian shook her head, “I doubt it’s that dire. They were charging the ion cannon the tower is equipped with. Those that made it onto the Galran command ship have likely shut down the shields. If they haven’t already, they will soon blast the Galra into dust.”

Keith certainly did underestimate the Vartesians. Did they even need their help? Would this have been something they could have taken care of on their own? It was starting to appear as such.

“Thank you.” Keith looked at her again, “Thank you for not just leaving me.”

He nodded to her quietly. He figured he had done enough leaving for the time being. Suddenly his mind was flooded with worry over Lance. He hoped McClain was doing well.

“And.” she said quietly, “I’m sorry for… throwing you off the cliffside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied.  
> I thought this was going to be the last chapter, but it is not. My original 6th chapter is now three separate chapters! So, one more to go!!
> 
>  
> 
> -> https://crystalsilhouette.tumblr.com/


	8. Stasis

**Stasis**

 

_“When I was very young, my mother was gravely ill.”_

_Allura had taken several long moments to gather her thoughts and words before finally starting._

 

 

As Keith and his stowaway returned to Vartex, what she had described had come to pass. They reached the planet in time to see the ion cannon fire and hit the command ship with the full force of its power. The Lions and remaining Vartesian forces took out the rest of the Galran fighters that had suddenly lost their vigor to fight.

Afterward, Coran had broadcast that Halvok hailed the castle, offering a truce for a time, and requested a meeting between his leader and Princess Allura. The Lions docked in their hangars and the group waited patiently for Halvok and Haie Ghessa to arrive. Keith's passenger - Ngarah, he learned was her name -  stood before the group at the door acting as an impromptu herald. As the door opened, Ngarah straightened her posture, arms at her sides, and, as Hair Ghessa entered, she pulled her hood back and removed her mask. It was the same gesture the Vartesians had made when she entered the room they held Lance in.

They gathered in the main lounge, giving Haie Ghessa a seat all her own, her two-person entourage standing behind the couch at attention and attentive to her whims, though she asked for very little. The rest gathered on seats opposite to the Vartesian Matriarch.

 

 

“I remember taking long trips with my mother and father to a distant planet. It was always in hopes of healing her ailments. I was much too young to understand, then, the purpose of these visits.” Allura explained. There was a soft expression on her face, but it was colored by the sadness in her eyes. “I only remember the beauty of the planet, stepping off the ship each time I was allowed to accompany my parents. I loved the inherent serenity that washed over me as I looked out to the horizon.”

Coran had become pensive as Allura recounted her experiences on this unnamed planet. His arm folded across his chest, holding up his other arm that allowed him to stroke his chin in thought.

“I…” he spoke up, “I remember King Alfor taking Her Majesty and the young princess on trips into space. But I had always thought that they were simply to allow some time exploring the galaxies. Just a chance to get away from home for a little while. To think that it was intended to aid in the Queen’s failing health… I had no idea.”

There was a disappointment in Coran’s tone that punctuated his last few words and Allura gave him an apologetic smile.

“This is true.” Haie Ghessa added, with a gentle smile along her delicate lips, “ Vartex, even then, was not a widely known place. But it had once been a place of healing. My people are exceptionally attuned to the ebb and flow of Quintessence, you see.

And, as I am sure you are aware, Quintessence is the root of all things life-giving. We feel it, we eat it, we breathe it, we _are_ it. Vartex has long had an exceptionally developed ability to manipulate Quintessence. And for many generations, we were healers to royal families across the galaxies. Trusted allies would have one or two resident Vartesian healers to care for their people that were in dire need of it. But in the case of Phaal Allura’s mother, it was believed she was best helped on our home world.”

“They did the best they could.” Coran offered with a heavy sigh, “But even that couldn't save Her Majesty.”

“How is it,” Pidge asked cautiously, “That your planet has come to have such an odd amalgamation of technology? And why haven’t you kept it up-to-date?”

Nghara’s eyes lit up to the posed query. She had spoken up before Haie Ghessa had a chance to utter.

“When the other royal visitors came to Vartex, they sometimes came with gifts and offerings. They would grace our people with advanced knowledge and ways of thought. The Olkari were always very charitable in this way.”

“So you’re saying that the Galra have also been to your planet?” Hunk was the one trying to piece his thoughts together.

“Y-Yes…” Ngarah balked slightly.

“Yes, Lord Zarkon had been a visitor to our home. There was even a time he had come in support of the Altean queen’s recovery.”

Allura was visibly affected by the statement. Most probably due to the fact that much of her memory of Vartex had been sparse. A place in her mind she lacked the want to keep because of the ties to the way her mother had not been long for the world. She sighed softly, finally walking down the forgotten halls of her recollection.

“As my mother was getting treatment,” Allura's eyes regained a bit of her color as she spoke, “I was generally left to myself as others were not allowed in the treatment rooms. Father would always worry over mother, refusing to wander away from the doors should she come out in search of him.

But there was one day, I had wandered to the gardens, attempting to find something to fill my time with. I had come across a little Vartesian girl, only slightly younger than I had been at the time. I had heard her crying.”

The corners of Hair Ghessa’s eyes wrinkled gently as she started to smile.

“She was playing in the gardens on her own when she slipped off the small fountain wall and scraped her knees. I went to her side and comforted her as best as I could. Alas,” Allura smiled, “I was no Vartesian healer. But we had gone to tend it as best I could manage.

I asked her name.”  

Allura's eyes lifted to meet their visitor.

“'Phaal Ghessa.’ she told me. I spent the rest of my visits becoming dear friends with Phaal Ghessa. As they became a more frequent excursion, Phaal Ghessa and I could always be found spending all the available time we had together, playing.

Of course, the visits stopped once Mother passed away.”

 

There was a long period of silence in reverence to her mother's memory. After a time, Hair Ghessa spoke, filling the room with her melodic tones.

“When the war began, it marked a very difficult time for my people. Healers were having to contend with overwhelming demand and they were having terrible difficulties returning home. As entire planets had fallen victim to the Empire’s endeavors, many of my people lost their lives on their distant planets.

Not only that, but by the simple nature of my people, there grew an inherent danger. We align and shift the balances of Quintessence in ways that allow bodies to heal themselves. Haggar learned that the manipulation of Quintessence could - in essence - also be used as a means of harm as well. This use of our abilities could be comparable to her 'dark magic’.

There are a select few within our populace that practice such abilities - up until then - simply for knowledge and understanding. The unknown is often more dangerous than preventative practices and understanding. Unfortunately, you have seen the result of such capabilities in your friend.”

Keith tensed. His fists clenched, hidden by folded arms over his chest. His teeth ached slightly at the subtle grinding. He hadn't seen him yet. Not since they took him to the healers.

“I hope you can see, then, why we had gone to such measure over many long centuries to become stricken from known histories and written off records. We had scattered throughout the galaxies, long abandoning our home and leaving it to ruin. It was my mother’s hope that this would save our race from enslavement - or much worse. It was not until the last few centuries we had come to return, gathering again as a people.”

The group sat quietly, every ear trained to hang on each word spoken. Even Keith was readily listening, finally being given the answers he had sought. Though, he would have preferred the short of it.

Haie Ghessa continued.

“Our abilities of teleportation run along similar lines. Every living thing in the universe has its own specific quintessence signature. Each of us are able to feel these signatures - read them, in a way. We can sense them innately. But if we are allowed the chance to tune to the signature specifically, it becomes ‘known’, as we call it. This signature, then, is open to use. Like a beacon.”

“Each signature becomes a target to basically shoot yourself at…” Matt Holt mused to himself aloud.

“Yes.” Haie Ghessa nodded, “It’s like seeing unique faces. Each _known_ signature is remembered and ‘opened’. When a Vartesian is born, they are Received in ceremony. The council reads their signature and they are brought into the populace. Every Vartesian signature is Known. However, the farther the distance, the longer it takes to travel. This also takes a much more physical toll on those who are not of Vartesian descent, not having the natural alignment with quintessence.”

“That seems somewhat…” Pidge conjectured with a slightly displeased look on her face, “invasive.”

“With the danger of the Galran Empire circling every corner of these blasted galaxies,” Halvok huffed, “It has become an integral necessity to our survival - as well as yours. Strict laws dictate that Vartex be unknown to the rest of the Universe lest we await what endless madness that can be unleashed with the sort of abuses Witch Haggar has managed to dream up. No Vartesian is ever to step off the planet without sanction to do so. Any that do so will be brought back and dealt with accordingly - any one to turn on his people, executed. The law also states that any trespassers to the planet will not leave with any evidence or knowledge of us or this planet. Emphasis on _will not leave_ \- Which leads me to beg the question why we offer so much of our secrets to these people!”

“They just helped save our home, _Tchevet!_.” Ngarah quipped back.

“They were the reason we _had to_ save our home!” He snapped.

“No, they weren’t!” Ngarah’s arms swung about as she gestured in argument, “That ship had been there for _far_ longer than when Keith showed up - and he had nothing to do with it! They are trying to _fight_ the Empire!”

“That is quite enough.” Haie Ghessa’s voice remained level and calm, but both immediately returned to attention, “Phaal Allura has already known of us. She is of privileged blood and is accorded to retain such knowledge. She is also a very dear friend to me, Halvok, so I would trust that your faith in her is just as thoroughly placed as my own. Voltron has long been an figure of protection and liberation. As Allura is a paladin of Voltron, my trust is hence extended.”

“Thank you, Haie Ghessa.” Allura placed a hand over her heart and nodded gently, “It is a great honor to hold your trust.”

“I am very sorry to say, Phaal Allura,” Ghessa’s expression saddened, “Even so, but for the good of my people, Voltron will find no ally in Vartex. I expect you will keep to my wishes and protect my people. We have worked diligently over the centuries to vanish. There is a great risk in allowing this knowledge to be given back to the universe.  Our overzealous caution has been bred by many centuries fear and reticence. I beg your understanding.”

Though it was truly devastating, Allura agreed to Ghessa’s wishes. They would have been an incredible asset in the war against Lord Zarkon and his forces. Even still against what dark magics Haggar managed. But the promise of healing in such a battered and broken universe was not enough to outweigh the consequences should their abilities become manipulated in ways that would just as easily rip every galaxy apart at the seams.

Keith stood in the back, fighting a heated war within himself. What he had stumbled upon and broken open was truly something to behold. He had worked so hard, risked… well, everything dear to him. He had his proof. He had his answer. But, the price of finally getting it was to let it slip from his fingers completely.

“Y-your Majesty.” he spoke quietly.

Eyes lifted and followed his voice, though he refused to meet them with his own.

  
. . . . . . . . . . 

 

“Are you ready?”

Keith swallowed softly and took a long, deep breath. Letting it out, he nodded. He closed his eyes and attempted to convince himself to relax. He had to admit, he was just a tiny bit nervous. But he stood tall and balled his fists to steel himself for whatever it was going to feel like.

Ngarah gently rested her hands on Keith’s chest, letting her own eyes drift shut. After a moment, the room silent as each pair of eyes began to dry out, no one in the room wanting to blink lest they miss anything. The tendrils on her forehead curled upward from the back of her head. They lifted in an elegantly curved crown, each end beginning to glow that familiar light color the others had learned accompanied each teleportation.

Keith could feel it. He could feel the ebb and flow of Quintessence within his body. It felt like the rush of adrenaline. It felt like the tingling sensation when a limb wakes from sleep. It felt like a dull, throbbing pain. It felt like slight threat of a muscle cramp. And it moved. It coarsed through him. He could feel it pool around Ngarah’s hands at his chest, circle and weave. He felt some of it seep out of him, leaving him slightly chilled. Before he began to feel cold, it stopped. He opened his eyes and he saw Ngarah smile at him.

“How do you feel?”

“...” He considered himself a moment, “Dizzy. And… tired.”

“That is normal.” Haie Ghessa assured.

The Vartesians suggested a bit of rest for Keith. Once he was no longer out of sorts, they would make for the Blade of Marmora.

  
  
. . . . . . . . . .   


“I’m glad that you and the rest of Team Voltron were able to find your Blue Paladin, Keith.” Kolivan nodded, his trademark grimace still cemented to his face. “We will have to be sure to heighten our sensitivity to bounty hunter activities in areas the Voltron team will be stationing themselves for any length of time. “

Keith nodded. The story resembled most of the truth. It was, in a large part, thanks to Pidge and the BLIP system they were able to find Lance. It just happened to be a “remote planet” in some other quadrant on the opposite side of the universe (from Vartex). The bounty hunters were just as unkind to Lance as his visit had been to Vartex, so his recovering made sense in that aspect. Why torture? Well, perhaps they were simply just _those_ sort of bounty hunters. Not unheard of.

“Kolivan.” Now Keith was _really_ going to have to put on a show, “I’m… sorry. About Vartex.”

Kolivan stared, a brow piqued.

“There’s nothing. I couldn’t drop it even when I wasn’t here with the Blades.” Keith sighed. “But it's desolate. Even the command ship is gone. You were right. I learned that they were on a reconnoiter mission on some stupid hunch about some dead race, found nothing and left. I’m… sorry for risking the Blade of Marmora; risking everything.”

“I understand that your intentions are for the good of everyone. But...” Kolivan started a lecture, paused, then thought better of it, “Perhaps in the next instance, we can learn to discuss options and possibilities in a better, more thorough capacity.”

Keith nodded with a soft, reprimanded sigh. Kolivan placed a hand on his shoulder, as good a comfort as he could offer.

“Get some rest. It’s late.” With that, Kolivan left Keith to his own in the empty bridge.

Keith stood in the dark room, soft intermittent beeps and clicks filling the air like the gentle chirping of crickets on a calm earthly night. Red and purple lights softly lit the area, keeping away the pitch of black. Keith leaned on his hands as they set themselves on the rail of the upper deck, sighing lightly. After a quiet moment to himself, he heard the quiet tap of feet behind him.

“You can access the database from that console.” Keith nodded his head in the direction he insinuated, not even bothering a glance at Ngarah.

She did so with ease. It took no time at all for her to bring up the files Keith had absconded with at the start of it all. She paged through everything, looked to see exactly what sort of information he had stolen away with. She grimaced as she read, thinking it to be a terrible waste for him to have possibly died over nothing at all vital. Her view of how Vartex had let their laws and ‘old ways’ twist and misconstrue were starting to shift and turn a bit after knowing Keith and the rest of Team Voltron.

“Well, according to my searches,” she shut down her operation at the console, “Everything pertaining to Vartex has been erased.” She pulled a small drive from the desk. It was a program Matt and Pidge had worked on to cover any tracks left behind while working to get rid of the intel. They tended to think of nearly everything, the Holt siblings. Ngarah had begun to near idolize the two in the time they had spent on Vartex. Along with Hunk, they had spent countless hours and much effort to upgrade, update, and rework much of the old systems on the planet. They taught and explained to those once savvy and those looking to become so. In this way, Vartex would have better means to protect itself from other situations should they arise.

Allura, Coran, as well as Shiro, had offered plentiful information on the standing of the Empire, the Voltron Coalition, and the Resistance. They were adamant, though Vartex would be no companion in battle, they would depart the planet leaving it with crucial knowledge and better defenses. In all this, Voltron had proven much in way of their intentions for the universe to the Vartesians.

She stepped up to Keith and handed him the drive.

“My regards to the rest of the team.” she smiled, extending her arm to him. He clutched her around her forearm. She returned the gesture, “Keith, I’m sorry for all the trouble you and Lance have been through. And even though we’ve had to take…” Ngarah’s eyes fell away, “ _precautions_ … Please know that it was done with the greatest respect.”

Per the actual agreement reached between Vartex and Voltron, they would keep their lives, first and foremost. In return, Vartex did not exist but only within the minds of the team. Which meant any evidence elsewhere, even within the Castle Of Lions’ mainframe, was to be destroyed. This included everything Keith had presented to the Blade of Marmora.

As a bit of insurance, to the insistence of Halvok, he would keep Lance's signature. If Vartex was betrayed for any reason, Lance's life was forfeit. Truly, there was no arguing with the man. (Even Haie Ghessa had lacked the grounds to change his mind.) This was to be the terms between the two, to be dictated to her people as a means of law. But, Keith also offered his own life. Lance had been the chip for Team Voltron. So Keith laid his on the table for the Blade of Marmora as well as a sort of reconciliation for the trouble he had caused. Even as they were set to remove any evidence of Vartex within their reach, they couldn't erase memories. Keith convinced them he was their safeguard. They agreed. Ngarah had even commented on how the gesture had impressed Halvok… slightly - though, to an outsider, it would not be seen.

“I understand.” Keith nodded, “I know it’s to protect your people. They are safe with us.”

“I know they are.” Ngarah smiled again, “Take great care, Keith.”

“You too, Phaal Ngarah. Maybe we will see each other again.”

“As a _friend_ , I would like that.” she smiled brightly.

And then she was gone.

 

. . . . . . . . . . 

 

_Clouds?_

He remembered clouds. He could see and feel them all around him. He remembered being surrounded. He remembered feeling trapped. Cornered. Then attacked. Lance remembered that menacing hand that grasped at his throat before he woke in a cold sweat. He remembered the heaviness in him that wouldn’t go away afterward. He was haunted by that storm that swallowed him in his dreams. The threatening snakes of electrical yellow and crimson. The heavy crash of thunder that beat against his ribcage and threatened to crush his insides.

But it was different this time. The clouds were calm. Fluffy. They were bathed in warmer tones of gold, pink, and delicate shades of blue and lavender. He felt serene. He felt safe. He could feel himself breath in deeply and let it out. There was an ache in him as he did it, but it was dull and easily dismissed. This felt better. This felt… right. Balanced. Healed.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. His lids still felt heavy and his eyes still felt fatigued. But they opened. Still sluggish, they adjusted, eventually focusing to the point of making sense. He looked through a window. He looked through a window and saw a familiar room. He was in a healing pod. In the Castle of Lions. He was home. Just as he began to fully take in his surroundings he saw a door open. Pidge rushed in, making a beeline for his pod, followed behind by Hunk and Shiro.

“Lance!” he heard her call, voice muffled by the glass, “Lance!”

He heard a few beeps and soon his pod was open. He carefully stepped down and out of his capsule, nearly toppling with his still-weakened state. Pidge was quick enough to catch him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

“You’re awake!” she exclaimed, nuzzling into his chest. “We saw your activity on the computer and hurried to see you!”

Lance couldn’t stop a genuine smile, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to find Hunk at his side.

“It’s really good to have you back.”

“Thanks.” Lance was surprised at how hoarse he sounded, throat dried and gravelly.

“You’ve been in the pod for eight quintets now.” Shiro said softly through his own relieved smile, “And that’s not counting the three you spent with the Vartesian healers.”

“Healers?” Lance mimicked curiously.

“It’s…” Pidge started as she let him go, taking a step back, “It’s a long story. But we’re friends now.”

“And you can’t tell anyone!” Hunk interjected hurriedly.

Lance gave him a classic McClain brow-raise, “O...kay.”

“Hey.” Hunk lightly placed a hand on Lance’s right shoulder, “How does your shoulder feel?”

“My shoulder?” Lance took a moment to wonder why it was his shoulder specifically, but then he remembered. That flash of jade, that sharp pain, and the anguish that followed every time she touched it. “Oh… Um.” He rolled it a little. “Seems ok. Doesn’t hurt at all when I move it.”

“Haie Ghessa says that it’ll scar.” Pidge added, “Pretty gnarly too. But the pod can’t really heal it fully because of the way the quintessence conduit marrs the tissue.”

“Quintessence… conduit.” Again, he repeated, utterly lost.

Shiro chuckled softly, “We’ll fill you in some other time. For now, just concentrate on getting more rest. Now that your body is done repairing itself, you should let it just relax.”

Lance agreed. He couldn’t recall a time where he felt so physically tired. Inside and out. It was a strange new sort of fatigue he hoped he wouldn’t have to experience again soon. After a small meal, not wanting to upset his stomach too much, and a large glass of water, he was ready to head to his room and get some sleep.

First thing was first, he was going to change out of the suit and into something much more comfortable.

When the door to his room opened, he froze. In all the confusion and bustle about him and his recovery, there was a small detail he had forgotten to consider. Keith sat on his bed, his eyes looking as tired as Lance felt, gaze dropped to the floor and staring into nothing. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward, McClain’s jacket in his hands where his chin and mouth rested against.

Lance’s heart pounded against his chest so hard it started to hurt. He almost smiled seeing him here in his room, but then he remembered the last time they had been together. Wasn’t exactly the fondest moment Lance could recall. Bringing it up in his mind again, he was actually still a little angry about it. But, if nothing else, he was at least happily relieved that Keith seemed no worse for the wear, all things considered. He looked at him a moment, Keith lost in his own hurricane of thoughts. His face was exactly the way he pictured in his mind while stuck to that chair on Vartex. To think, Lance thought that would have been the last time he would see Keith. (The last time he would see anyone, if he were honest with himself. But Keith…)

Lance took a breath before stepping into the room.

He sauntered up to the bedside, but Keith was so far away he hadn’t even heard the door open, let alone feel Lance come up to him.

“Hey.” Lance said softly.

Keith’s lashes fluttered for a moment before his eyes wandered up to Lance’s face. For a moment he only stared. Lance wasn’t all that sure what to do. He knew what he _wanted_ to do, but he wasn’t sure just how viable those avenues were with Keith anymore. Instead he fidgeted for a second before opening his arms with a shrug of his shoulders in a way of saying _here I am._

“Lance…” Keith whispered as he stood on his feet.

His hand clutched Lance’s jacket tightly, looking for something real, something physical to be certain of. His eyes darted all over Lance’s face, then did a once over on him entirely. He seemed ok. He didn’t look in pain. There was no sign of blood staining through the suit he wore. He looked just fine.

Keith took a deep breath, Lance fully expecting a sigh of relief. Maybe even a big ol’ hug, if he was lucky enough.

“What the _hell_ is _wrong_ with you?!”

Well, that didn’t sound at all like relief.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Keith yelled, tossing the jacket onto the floor so he could gesture angrily at Lance. Lance, who stood there, blinking like an idiot, dumbfounded at the sudden outburst, “Why didn’t you just _tell them_ ? You knew it was _me_ they wanted! They were going to fucking _kill you_ , Lance!” Keith grabbed Lance by the front of his suit at his emphasis, as though, without it, the reality of the sentiment wouldn’t sink in otherwise, “She nearly did! She had the end of her weapon about ready to shove into you! Nevermind that you let her beat you practically to death! How could you fucking let that happen? Do you even _know_ how fucked up you were? Why didn’t you tell them it was _me?_ ”

Lance’s surprise shifted into his own riled indignation when Keith grabbed him. Who, of all people, did Keith think he fucking was to give him such a lecture? How much of an idiot did he take him for if he didn’t think he realized exactly how heavy the situation was? He knew. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

“Because I love you, you dense piece of shit!” Lance shove Keith off of him.

Keith staggered a few steps back, completely stunned. He had _never_ heard Lance talk, or yell, in a tone like that before. He never expected that answer either. After the things he heard Lance say to Hunk, why would he?

But Lance wasn’t done.

“The _last_ thing I was going to do was tell them! The only way they - or _anyone,_ for that matter - is _ever_ going to get to you is over my cold. Dead. Body.” Each of those last three words he punctuated with a jab of his finger that Keith flinched away from, “And you want to know something else?” A sardonic smirk ripped across his lips, “This ought to piss you right the fuck off - I’d fucking do it _again_ . Every damn time. I don’t even _give a shit_ that you don’t feel the same. I _love_ you, so fucking **deal with it**.”

Keith’s wildfire rage was snuffed out by Lance’s tsunami of a rebuttal. He was nothing more than a small ember at that point, drowning in Lance's passionate truth.

Lance waited for him to rile back up, his mind steeled to fight this out with Keith to the bitter end. If he wanted to stand there in _his_ room and lecture and scream at him fresh out of a healing pod, _fine._ But Lance wasn’t going to let it slide without a few punches of his own. He waited, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched in his own furious poise to strike back. He waited. But Keith never shot back. His eyes never recovered from their wide-eyed surprise. His jaw only stammered any time he thought to try and say something, all that would come forward was a wordless breath or confused noise.

“Well?” Lance egged, “You can’t possibly have _nothing_ to say.”

“I-I…” Keith had quite a bit to say, actually. He just couldn’t manage to get it out. “It’s… it’s a little hard for me to - I can’t really breathe…”

Lance was starting to get upset over the fact that he couldn’t _stay_ upset. Not with the way Keith clutched at the front of his shirt over his chest and ducked his head, trying to hide behind his curtain of hair. The red of his ears betrayed Keith’s attempt at playing off his mortification. Lance sucked in a deep breath, his head falling back as he reset his cool. He let it out and looked at Keith for a moment, watching him fidget for a bit.

“Lucky for _you_ ,” Lance stepped up, lifting Keith’s head by the chin, “It turns out I know how to help with that.”

Keith could feel his cheeks flush deeper as Lance leaned in close, slipping his other hand into the dark locks of hair on the back of his head. Lance’s head tilted to one side slightly and Keith’s eyes drifted shut. He was eager to feel Lance’s kiss again. But all he received was a rush of cool air as Lance blew softly against his lips.

Keith’s eyes opened and found Lance with a pleased smirk across his face.

How could he really have been surprised? It was _Lance,_ after all - that trolling dickhead. But he was glad. He was glad that through everything, Lance was still Lance. His hands darted up to the sides of his head and he pulled Lance in completely, lips holding lips; gathering them and embracing, finding them and relearning them, remembering the familiar flavor of comfort and completion.

Lance actually flinched at the hands to his face, expecting another knuckle sandwich to the jaw more than anything. But when he realized that it was a kiss, he obliged fully, pouring every little bit left of him into it. Keith eased completely, the tensions in his body fading away as it molded to Lance’s form, moving and acquiescing to whatever its whims were. His anger quickly dissipated and left nothing but his anxiety and relief to wash over him. It filled Keith until it spilled over in tears. Tears that burned hot as they slipped down his face.

“I’m sorry.” Keith huffed after a shaky breath and shifting a step back, “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry dragging you into my mess. I’m sorry you had to pull me out. I’m sorry you had to get pulled in. I’m just- I’m so sorry, Lance.”

Lance listened as Keith rambled on, brushing the wet trails from his cheeks. There was a soft look on his face that spilled a thousand ways of saying ‘you’re my universe’.

“Stop telling me that you’re sorry and _prove_ you _love_ me.”

Keith thought. Only for a moment. He did. He absolutely, unequivocally did. Keith loved Lance McClain. He was everything he needed. It turned out he was what he wanted too. And every second he thought he was going to lose him, he felt like he was going to break down and crumble to nothing. Lance was the only thing that had mattered to him the second he was ripped away. Keith would give everything for Lance because… He loved him.

He wrapped his arms around Lance’s shoulders and hugged him tightly. He was elated to feel Lance’s hands slip around his torso, squeezing him back just as strongly. He buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, wanting nothing more than to just feel him. He was dying for that rock. He was dying for that lifeline, the secure line to keep him grounded, keep him whole. He wanted Lance to squeeze him so hard it constricted his lungs so much he wouldn't be able to breathe, just to know he was there. McClain… well, he certainly tried. Keith had to hush a laugh at the thought.

He gave him one more squeeze before letting Lance loose. His eyes caressed every inch and curve of McClain’s handsome face with every intention of remembering each minute detail.

“I love you.” he said simply. Quietly. Gently enough that only the two would hear it, but for some reason it seemed to have screamed across the galaxy.

Lance blinked, his eyes growing wide. After a moment of processing, his lips turned into a ridiculous pout and he sniffed like a child. Tears welled in his eyes and Keith was confused.

“Lance?”

“You…” he sniffed again, “I didn’t think you’d actually _say it_ right away _._ ”

Keith shook his head with a light smirk. _Idiot._ “I love you.” He kissed the corner of his lips. “I love you. Lance… I love you.”

“Jesus Christ, stop!” Lance grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back to arm’s length, “ _Okay_ , already. I want you enough as it _is._ You’re going to fucking kill me.”

Keith smiled softly, wanting to repeat the phrase a thousand more times, but he held back. Lance pulled him back in and kissed him solidly, wholesomely. They kissed like Keith remembered, Lance’s lips gentle and thoughtful. They were a comfort, a soothe, a salve for his woes, a sweet reminder that he had someone on his side. But Keith didn’t want those kisses. He wanted the other ones. He wasn’t in the mood for innocent naive little pecks.

Bit by bit, kisses grew thick with intention. They were coaxing and calling, parting further and inviting more. Lance knew exactly how to respond, much to Keith’s excited delight. His hands wrapped around Keith’s waist, pulling him in tight as he forced his mouth closer, hooking a soft moan out with a tease of his tongue. Keith’s arms hung over Lance’s shoulders, listlessly holding on while keeping out of Lance’s way, wanting his roaming hands to find every inch of him. Their kisses hot by now as Lance’s hands wandered up Keith’s back and the other over the supple curve of his backside. His lower hand took an bounteous grope that pulled Keith’s hips up against his own and Keith broke away with a soft gasp.

“Ahn…” he huffed softly, “Lance.”

Lance’s suit was little to keep things hidden from the imagination. When Lance pulled him, Keith could feel exactly how excited McClain was getting, and feeling it up against his own was enough to cause a whine. Lance needed no other sign. He let Keith go and reached for the long pull at the back of his suit, yanking the zipper down as Keith slipped out of his shirt and worked at his belt. Keith glanced up as Lance began peeling the suit off his shoulders and down the front of his torso. When he did Keith stopped.

“Jesus…” he mumbled.

“Hm?” Lance sounded with a look at Keith, popping his arms out of the sleeves. When he noticed his stare, Lance looked down at his right shoulder. “Oh damn. Pidge wasn’t kidding.”

Just under the shoulder on his chest, Lance found he sported a new scar, the healed flesh a milkier tone than his normal carmel. The inch and a half line that now lived there was about the width of the side of a nickel, but what drew the eye the most were the jagged branches that reached from it. It was like the pattern left on anything struck by lightning. The breadth of the whole thing was nothing larger than the radius of a baseball, but it was certainly eye-catching.

Keith’s heart sunk at the sight of it. That scar was there because of him. Lance had been hurt _because of him_. And now, there was a permanent reminder of it etched right into his skin. Keith stared at it, letting it mentally poison him. With a quiet breath he reached out and touched it with light fingers, tracing lines every which way. Lance watched Keith’s face as he did, acutely aware of the sort of thoughts that splintered through his mind. But then his chin tilted up and he leered at Keith with that trademark smirk.

“Admit it.” Keith looked at him, pulled away from his darkening mind, “My scar is pretty fucking sexy. It’s totally turning you on right now.”

And in an instant, Keith’s festering apprehension vanished. His lips curled into a smile before he leaned in to press them against those new lines. The first was chaste, like a mother’s band-aid. The ones that followed were far less innocent. Lance felt himself flush slightly at that, his heart starting to race again at the ways Keith managed to catch him off guard. They both finished peeling off the rest of their garments before Lance pinned Keith to his bed.

Kisses spilled between them as easily as their heated breaths, tongues beginning to boyishly wrestle against one another as Keith allowed Lance to cast away all his inhibitions. His hands found solace in Lance’s head of chocolate, palms naked to feel the silkiness of each strand. He felt Lance’s hand glide down his side and his nerves tingled the entire way down. The hand curved over his hip and slipped up his stomach and chest, causing him to arch up into it at the caress of his nipple and the hot feel of Lance’s wide hand over his whole breast. Keith’s lips broke away as it did, his head following suit backward into the mattress with a hot breath.

Lance took no time in hunting Keith’s flesh, reaching for his exposed neck as his lips made their own love to his skin on the opposite side. The heaves of Keith’s chest against him only excited him more and drove his libido wild. His kisses stopped, lips tickling against the shell of Keith’s ear, and he reached for Keith’s backside again, taking that generous handful as he pulled it against him, his own hips pushing down. Keith clutched at his shoulders, feeling the pressure of them together, rubbing and stroking against intimate flesh. Lance felt Keith rise on his own against him, and he rolled harder, forcing a coveted moan out of him.

In the quickest Lance had ever moved, he touched a panel on the wall over Keith’s head. A drawer shifted out and offered a small plastic jar that he eagerly retrieved, popping it open on the bed and coating several fingers with its contents. Before Keith could gather a breath, Lance had slicked them both, and had them both in hand, leaving Keith with a familiar sensation. He remembered this. He felt their mingling heat radiating against each other, with each other, for each other. Oh, Keith remembered. The added slickness made the whole process so much more maddening and Keith immediately covered his mouth to help swallow the sounds he was about to make. Lance watched adoringly, his thrusts quick and hard but even.

“You know I can’t kiss you like that.” It felt so good to be able to tease Keith again. And the current situation simply made it all the better.

Keith said nothing, but quickly reached for Lance’s face, yanking him into a heated kiss. Lance enjoyed the fact that his attempt to keep hushed failed utterly in such sloppy kisses. Lurid sounds escaped through every break of lips and rush of breath. Keith was irritated at that fact, though he found consolation in that not all of them were his own. In the climbing excitement, Lance started his own vocal accompaniment. But unlike Keith, he let them flow, making sure Keith heard and felt every sound, delighting himself with each darker shade of red he turned.

Lance felt Keith's fingers begin to dig in his skin and took it as a sign of nearly climaxing - if he was going by his own rise as well. He took Keith in his hand alone and stroked heavily, with every intention of making him break, his thumb and index finger working at thoroughly milking him. Keith hissed and moaned, wanting to fight the urge as his hips and stomach rolled, completely in their own mind.

“L-ance.” Keith called, his back arching as he strained vocally.

McClain couldn’t resist the draw of Keith’s sinful undulations. Pumping him still, he rested his weight on the other elbow to allow his hand to follow the curve along Keith’s spine, his lips lowering over a pebbled nipple. Teeth nipped and his tongue caressed and all the attention made Keith jump with a whimper. A lighter toned hand fell to the bed, clutching at the sheets beneath desperately. He felt the teeth drag down his ribs, nipping at his skin before feeling the heavy soothe of Lance’s warm wet tongue. He felt hungry kisses up his chest and the pull of eager lips that would leave countless claiming marks. He heard the husky bite of his name pour into his ear and he broke with just as thick a groan. Keith’s shuddering breaths filled the quiet between them as Lance made quick work to sit up with freshly lubed fingers before reaching for Keith in a newly intimate way. 

The man had no chance at rest before he felt Lance’s fingers graze over his entrance. The sensation was new, and completely odd, and it unnerved him. But as he looked over to Lance questioningly, he eased. Keith couldn’t doubt the love in Lance’s eyes as he looked down him over. He felt vulnerable. He felt exposed. He felt so fragile and open. But the way Lance looked at him made Keith realize he could love all that weakness, he could accept all those susceptibilities and give them to Lance. He didn’t have to bear his crosses alone anymore. He didn’t have to lock himself down until he cracked down the middle. He didn’t have to wait until his emotions spilled over to the point of wanting to deck the closest person. Lance could take these ‘liabilities’ within him and make them beautiful, make them wonderful, make them desirable.

“Dios mio, you have no idea how gorgeous you are right now.” Lance whispered in a fervent stare.

Keith squirmed slightly at the delicate insertion of a finger. “Sh-shut up.” He flushed deeply.

Lance shook his head, “I mean it.”

“Do you have to say shit like that?”

“Yes.”

Keith turned his head away, covering his eyes with an arm. His body flinching and writhing with soft mewls and sighs, the embarrassment turning his skin a flushed pink and burning hot. Lance sat, watching Keith intently, still diligently working at loosening him up.

“You know, a lot of all I could think about was not getting the chance to do this with you if she killed me.”

Lance was immediately smacked in the face with a pillow. It stopped him cold and he looked at Keith with wide-eyed surprise.

“Don’t you fucking say that again.”

Lance smiled, stuffing the pillow under Keith’s hips. He sighed happily, running his hands all over Keith’s body.

“But I mean it. This whole stupid war sucks. Sure, there’s been some fun parts, some crazy parts, some _really_ sucky parts… But I don’t think I’ve ever been really happy until being with you. Vartex was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Keith nearly choked on a thick swallow. How could Lance think that? After all the trouble it’s been, after all the hurt it’s caused? Vartex was the _best_ thing?

“Lance…” Keith pushed himself up and reached to wrap his arms around Lance’s neck.

He pulled him close and kissed him with all the sincerity in every fiber of his being he could find. Lance answered, gently laying them both back onto the bed, setting himself in the process. As they broke for a breath of air he looked at Keith who then nodded, nuzzling Lance in the process.

Lance shifted forward, easing inside.

The tightness for the both of them was uncomfortable, but at the same euphoric. Neither felt closer to the other until Lance was tucked carefully inside. Keith had groaned through clenched teeth, but was graciously thankful for the generous amount of lubricant Lance had applied. As Lance settled, giving Keith a moment, he kissed him softly.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only a bit.” Keith reached for Lance’s shoulders as both his hands propped him up on either side of his own.

His movements were slow, thoughtful, delicate. Lance gauged his motions with Keith’s reactions; each wince, or grimace, or moan, or gasp on the sex scale was calculated precisely. Once Keith became accustomed to Lance’s presence, however, Lance’s motive scale tipped closer to his favor. That wasn’t to say that Keith suffered from lack of satisfaction.

As Keith became washed over with only the pleasure of Lance’s motions, his lover shifted over him, and dropped a hand to Keith’s hip. It glided down the length of his thigh and pulled his knee. It opened up a whole new sensation while Lance shifted his own leg up under Keith’s lifted one, his forward motions hardly ceasing or slowing their rhythm. The sensation compounded by the burning heat he felt in and around him made Keith feel dizzy. So dizzy it felt as though the room started spinning and his (mostly) tamed vocalizing was left unchecked. Keith’s arms clutched around Lance’s shoulders again, his lover’s face buried in the nape of his neck and bathing him in the drenches of his breath.

With Lance’s building pace, Keith felt his pressure rise again and he attempted to force his body to stave it off until he heard Lance’s voice warning his own crescendo. Still, he tried to fight it, McClain’s name drifting from his lips endlessly like a secret prayer. As it did, Lance clutch him closer, pressed harder, and breathed heavier and hotter.

They climaxed.

Both bodies tensed, frozen in time by their mutual carnal release.

They relaxed and fell into breathless kisses and airy whispers. Adoring hands caressing and roaming, but never letting go. Twice more they found that moment of united bliss that night, bathing in each other's company. Had Lance not started with his energy already running on fumes, they would have gone far longer. Keith, though, was quite alright with the respite, his own fatigue washing over him. His body wasn't quite accustomed to this particular workout… yet.

They laid together in bed, Keith's back nestled perfectly up against Lance's chest, his arms tucked in close as he brushed his thumb over the back of Lance's hand over his heart.

“You're a moron.” Lance pressed lazy kisses on Keith's shoulder and neck as they conversed, “You know that, right?”

“Eat shit. What else am I supposed to think after hearing you say you want to 'move on’?”

“‘Move on _to the next step_ ’, 'move on _to more than just being a safety blanket_ ’, 'move on _to getting your clothes off and strapping your naked ass to my bed_ ’. Any of these options are valid possibilities I could be insinuating. I thought them all.”

Keith laughed lightly.

Lance squeezed him tight before relaxing with a large relaxed sigh.

“I still feel like I should have gotten a say in it, by the way. I should always get a vote.”

“Halvok sort of had you by the throat.” Keith smirked, “Maybe try speaking up  a little more clearly next time.”

“I meant with _you_ , smartass.” Lance pouted, “I don't sit well with the idea of some random alien knowing your _personal_ _Quintessence signature_.”

“I didn't realize I needed your permission.”

Lance sighed, defeated.

“You don't. I just…” He propped himself up in an elbow.  “I don't want someone to be able to just show up out of nowhere and snatch you from me.”

Keith turned to lay on his back, looking for Lance's face and finding his eyes refusing to meet him.

“I get it, Lance.” He reached to caress his cheek, earning a sidelong glance. “Trust me. That's kind of _exactly_ what I just went through. But it isn't fair to make you have to carry that burden all on your own - and I know a thing or two about being a your own personal martyr. Besides, it was a good way to prove they could trust us and protect the Blades at the same time.”

Lance slumped a little as he continued to sulk. Finally, he huffed, laying his head on top of Keith's chest and wrapped his arms around him, snuggling close.

“ _Fine_ .” He conceded, “As long as I'm the only one that knows _this_ personal signature.”

Lance nosed lovingly against Keith's chest before resting his ear over his heart and drifted into a deep restful sleep, listening to the gentle thump of Keith's pulse.

Keith melted inside. He smiled to himself as he gently stroked over Lance's hair.

“It's all yours.” he whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of Lance's head, closing his eyes and drifting away with a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!
> 
> Thank you everyone that subscribed or bookmarked or both! Thank you for all the encouraging comments! (-cough-AMBER-cough-)  
> I'm so happy to be able to call this complete!  
> Can you guess which line was my inspirational springboard for this whole bloody fic?! I bet you can. xD
> 
> Please! Tell me your thoughts and opinions! I would truly love to know them. Even if it's just to share some mutual Klance adoring. We know the universe definitely needs more of that!
> 
>  
> 
> I hope that you all keep me in mind for future visits. I do have plans for another VLD fanfic in the works. It's a much bigger project. AND it's an A/U! Which means, I can finally watch the last two seasons of VLD and hopefully be caught up before S7!!! AAAH!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope that you liked it. <3


End file.
